


Four Letter Word

by Dresupi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Babies, Cersei Lannister Bashing, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Disagreements, Drug Addict Theon Greyjoy, Drug Addiction, Drunk Arya Stark, Drunk Sansa Stark, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extreme Fluff 2: The Fluffening, F/M, Fashion Designer Sansa Stark, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Influencer Sansa Stark, Kissing, Love Confessions, Masturbation in Shower, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Ramsay Bolton, Mild Smut, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Sansa Stark, POV Theon Greyjoy, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Photographer Theon Greyjoy, Ramsay Bolton/Being Fucking Dead, References to Drugs, Rehabilitation, Romance, Roommates, Sassy Arya Stark, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Couch, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, There should be a higher fluff warning tbh, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, accidental roommate acquisition, and they were ROOMMATES, it's so soft y'all, mutual idiots, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 81,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Theon is finished with his rehabilitation, but he still can't shake the feeling that he's dragging everyone down.Sansa answers his call, and he finds himself living with her. She's already done so much for him, how can he ask this from her as well?How long before he realizes that he's giving as much as he's getting?
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 141
Kudos: 174
Collections: Dresupi's Theonsa Fics





	1. Theon I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the beginning of my new longfic! Special thanks to treaddelicately for beta-reading this and allowing me to scream about this plot in her DMs. 
> 
> I hope you like this, y'all!

_I hope the coming days will bring you some happiness, Theon._

_Whether or not you believe it, you deserve happiness._

* * *

The glow from the car park lights was so bright it hurt his eyes. Might have been because he was so used to being indoors. Or it could be the unnaturally blue-tinted bulbs they had in them causing the slight irritation.

It wasn’t even particularly dark outside. It had just reached that weird time between twilight and full-on night when the lights naturally switched on a bit before they were needed. But still, as Theon walked through the double doors of The Crone’s Rest, he squinted against the dull burn.

When he glanced down at his phone screen, he almost couldn’t make it out. He had to go into the settings and turn the brightness up. The thing hadn’t been turned on in months, but he’d had it turned all the way down the last time he’d used it.

There were a lot of numbers saved in this phone that he wouldn’t ever use again. He was supposed to be calling a ride to take him somewhere other than the bench in front of the Rest, but instead, he was finding any way possible to procrastinate.

Maester Luwin would have said he was hedging. He could just hear him and his incredibly droll voice. “Theon, we’re hedging here. We need to go _into_ the house, not faff about in the lawn.”

And Theon would have groaned and rolled his eyes. Faffing about in the lawn was so much easier than trying to open a locked door. He should know. He had opened many with the assistance of Maester Luwin.

But as it was, he was just going through his contacts and deleting everyone who felt superfluous. He set his jaw as soon as he thought the word. Another Luwin-ism. When his maester said superfluous, Theon knew he meant detrimental.

A majority of the contacts were his so-called mates while he was running around with Ramsay. He knew now that none of them were worthy of the title. Least of all, Ramsay.

Ramsay’s name was the one he hovered over for a split second before he deleted it as well.

It felt good. Even though Ramsay was no longer stalking the world making everything worse for having crossed him, deleting the contact information from his phone gave Theon a little burst of courage.

Which was probably why he did what he did next.

After purging every other name from his phone, he was left with three: Dad, Yara, and Robb.

The clear choice was to call Robb.

Well, he should say, the clear choice would have been to call Robb days ago _when_ he found out he was being released from rehab that day. He’d known for a good two days now what his release date and time would be. But he hadn’t called his friend. He hadn’t called anyone. So Robb had no idea Theon was out. Had no idea he’d need a ride and was likely cuddling his pregnant wife in their freshly built house up North.

It wasn’t as if Robb hadn’t done enough for him already, anyway. Theon was a shite friend and didn’t deserve what he’d already done, let alone deserve to see his oldest friend’s cheerful face waving at him from his brand new SUV for which he’d traded his cherry red sports car when he found out Marg was expecting.

Robb was moving on with his life. Had _already_ moved on. Theon was, for all intents and purposes, starting over. Robb didn’t need him clutching his ankles and holding him back.

That left Yara and Dad.

Yara was out of town still. So she was an easy no.

Dad told him he didn’t have a son anymore the last time they’d talked, so that left him with no one.

Absolutely no one.

Well, not _exactly_ no one. But no one he’d ever call if he were in his right mind.

He wasn’t though, he was brimming full of bravado and courage from finishing rehab and deleting all traces of Ramsay Bolton from the planet.

There was one number he had not yet entered into his phone. Theon pulled out his duffel bag and rummaged around for the stack of letters he had bound together with a rubber band. They were tucked into his spare pair of trainers. Pink and green envelopes that smelled faintly of citrus.

Her round handwriting caught his eye and while he wasn’t actually reading the words, just skimming to find a particular letter, he was calmed by them all the same. He’d grown used to a routine while he was a patient at the Rest, and one of these letters had arrived once a week since he’d been released from the hospital wing of the center.

He found the letter in question, removed it from its envelope, and unfolded it carefully. He took time scanning its contents until he found the bottom. _“And if you ever find yourself in need of company once you’re out, feel free to give me a ring.”_

Sansa Stark. His one-sided penpal during most of his rehab experience.

She’d written him weekly. And he’d never written her back. Well, he’d never posted his replies, anyway.

Luwin liked for his patients to keep journals. And gave them time to write in them each evening. Theon simply recorded his responses to Sansa in his, for lack of anything else to write about.

He’d thought about mailing them off. Maybe he would show her someday. Maybe not.

Probably not. He was shit at letter writing, it was likey that they looked like they were written by a child or something.

But before he lost his nerve, he tapped her number into the keypad on his phone and brought it up to his ear.

It rang exactly twice before she answered, her voice quizzical and confused. She likely didn’t know his number and therefore didn’t know who was calling.

“Hello?” she asked, and Theon almost chickened out. He almost hung up. But a quick glance at the stack of pink and green clutched in his hand bolstered him. She’d taken the time to write him. She’d want to hear from him.

“Hi…. um… Hello. It’s Theon,” he said, his voice stilted. She didn’t respond. It felt like forever but was likely only seconds. “Greyjoy,” he supplied, swallowing thickly and wishing like hell he hadn’t even called.

“I know who you are, goober,” she giggled. “I don’t know any other Theons. I definitely haven’t given any other Theons my number recently.”

Her voice sounded much the same. But entirely different as well. His memory harkened back to a silly teenage girl, giggling at him from where she sat. Teasing him as a little sister would. But this voice, while similar, didn’t sound in any way familiar. She spoke his name. The timbre was the same. But her tone was not nearly as snotty as he remembered.

Or perhaps he was biased. He’d been, for the most part, annoyed by Sansa Stark growing up, and indifferent to her after. It was only recently since she’d begun writing him and mentioning memories that he’d begun to take a second look.

Nostalgia took all the snot out of someone, he supposed.

He laughed, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “That’s fair. Umm…” he trailed off, at a loss for words. “I…”

“How are you?” Sansa asked.

“Oh, I’m--”

He stopped abruptly. How was he? In therapy, Maester Luwin had helped him to say what was on his mind, but he knew that polite conversation generally didn’t have room for such things. Was this polite conversation, or was it something else?

“I’m out,” he finally finished.

“Out?” Sansa repeated. “Out of… rehab?”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling dryly.

“How long?” she asked. “Did you get my last letter?”

“I’ve been out about ten minutes now… and yeah, I got it.” He glanced down at his hand. It was the one that had contained her phone number. Not the only one that did, but the one on the top of the stack, and therefore, the one he’d opened.

“Oh,” she said, sighing in what sounded like relief. “You just got out then?”

“Yeah, I ummm. I didn’t know who to call. My sister’s out of town, my dad’s…. My dad. And Robb is up North…”

“Do you need a ride?” she asked, getting right to the point.

“I… I dunno.”

“Do you have a ride already?” she reworded.

“No, I--”

“A place to stay?” she continued.

“No, I--”

“I have a spare room, Theon.”

That wasn’t what he’d been fishing for. He wasn’t entirely sure what he _was_ fishing for. Not an invitation to stay with her, though. That was too much, wasn’t it? It was inappropriate… for her. Not for him, his reputation couldn’t get much more tarnished than it already was. Drug addict. Narc. Coward.

“Sansa, I couldn’t--”

“Nonsense. If you don’t mind sharing the room with a bunch of sewing equipment.”

She’d mentioned that she sewed in her letters. Clothes. That she designed. He’d be sleeping in her office, practically. She’d need the room eventually, he couldn’t hog it.

“I don’t mind that at all, it’s just--”

“Just what?”

“Sansa, I can’t ask you to let me stay.”

“Are you kidding? Of course, you can stay. You didn’t ask. I offered. Now, whereabouts are you? I need a full-on address or at least something I can search on my phone.”

He thought about insisting that he wouldn’t stay with her, but at the same time, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. And she had offered. Out of the goodness of her heart. Goodness that he certainly didn’t deserve after never even taking the time to write her back.

Exhaling slowly, he answered. “I’m at the Crone’s Rest, just outside King’s Landing.”

“I’ll be there in a tick, I’m driving a champagne coloured car. Or something. It’s goldish.”

“Okay…”

She ended the call and he stared at his phone for a long moment before sliding the phone back into his pocket. He restacked the letters and wrapped a rubber band around them once more, stashing them back in his spare shoes and replacing everything in his bag, pulling it into his lap.

Why had he called her?

His cheeks burned red with embarrassment as he waited there on the bench, wondering if he should just make a run for it now. She’d figure out he wasn’t here soon enough. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. It would be rude to ask her to come to pick him up and then not even be here.

He chewed on his bottom lip and squeezed his bag closer to his chest. His leg bounced on the sidewalk, and the double doors behind him opened once more. He could smell the acrid scent of cigarette smoke as a pair of shuffling footsteps came to a stop behind him.

“You get a ride, Greyjoy?”

Theon recognized the voice as one of the orderlies, but seeing as he was new to his position, Theon hadn’t taken the time to learn his name. He felt bad about that, seeing as he definitely recognized him.

“Yeah, she’s on her way.”

“ _She_?”

Theon wrinkled his nose at the tone he’d taken. “ _She’s_ my sister.” Sansa certainly wasn’t, but she also didn’t deserve whatever lewd responses this orderly was about to make about her, sight unseen.

The orderly inhaled deeply. “No offense, I was just joshing ya. I can do that now that you’re not a patient here. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, your sister.”

“She is,” Theon replied, turning his head to look at the orderly, he spied his nametag. D. Kellyn. It didn’t ring any bells, but he at least knew his surname. “Tell ya what, Kellyn. Gimme one of those, and I’ll forget the whole thing.”

The other man smirked and held out the box in front of him. Theon chose one and held out his hand for the lighter.

“Think your sister’s coming,” Kellyn pointed to the pair of headlights slowing down. “You gonna smoke in her car?”

He shouldn’t. He knew that much. “Nah, guess I’ll save it. You have a nice life,” he said over his shoulder.

Theon tucked the cigarette in his shirt pocket and shouldered his bag instead, rising to his feet so he could climb into the passenger side of her car quickly. He didn’t need D. Kellyn staring at her any more than what was absolutely unavoidable.

“Arturs,” the orderly replied.

“What?” Theon asked, turning to face him. He was grinning and shaking his head.

“My name. Sandy Arturs. I had to borrow my mate’s name tag today.”

“Oh… gods, I’m sorry, I--”

“You’re fine, mate, don’t worry yourself over it. Just stay better, you hear?” He drew on the cigarette and dropped it to smudge it out with his foot. “And quit smoking. Don’t replace one bad habit with another. Oral fixation and all.”

Theon smirked and reached up to pat the cigarette in his pocket. “It’s the only one I have, so I don’t think there’s a danger of that.”

Sansa’s car slowed and Arturs shrugged. “Take care of yourself, Greyjoy. Don’t want you to have a reason to learn my name.”

Theon had to chuckle at that. He hadn’t smoked a single cigarette in his entire time here. Maybe Sandy Arturs was right.

When the car finally stopped, he could just make out Sansa’s silhouette in the driver’s seat. She was tall, or at least she looked tall sitting down, but he supposed that didn’t mean anything.

She unlocked the car door, reaching over to open it for him. The interior light of the car flipped on and illuminated her, wearing a gauzy white top, her hair falling forward over her shoulders as she strained to reach the handle on the passenger side door. She flashed him a bright smile and something panged deep in his chest.

“There you are,” she said, flapping her hand and seemingly losing her balance before righting herself again. “Sorry about that…”

He smiled, a small, close-lipped kind of expression that was as involuntary as it was awkward. “You know, I could have done that.”

“I know, I just thought I’d help…” she replied, watching as he pulled the door open the rest of the way and sat down, closing it behind him. He tugged the seat belt across his chest and buckled it into place before pulling his bag into his lap.

“How are you?” she asked for the second time that day. Her car smelled like lemons and vanilla.

“You asked me that on the phone a few minutes ago,” he replied, hedging like mad. Maester Luwin would have rolled his eyes at him.

“Well, a lot has changed in a few minutes,” she retorted, her cheeks reddening slightly. “You’ve gotten in a car for the first time in a while. How was that?”

He chuckled. “I’m joking, Sansa. And I’m good. Truly.”

Her hand raised and sort of hovered in the air for a few seconds, moving towards him and away again like they were opposite ends of a magnet or something. It eventually fell back into her lap. “I’m glad to hear that, Theon.” His mouth tugged up at the corners. “Also, hello.”

“Hello,” he echoed, eyes falling to stare at the clock on her car radio.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, reaching for the gear stick.

He was about to answer no, but his stomach rumbled, sort of making his response moot. He chuckled, his hand coming down to rest on his belly. “I guess I am.”

“Let’s get takeaway,” she said, pulling the gear stick and stomping on the clutch to shift from park to first.

He watched her smoothly coast across the car park, slowing down before pulling out onto the empty road that ran in front of the rehab center.

It was located in King’s Landing, but just outside the city proper. It’d be a few minutes yet before they reached the buildings and the hustle and bustle of downtown if that was indeed where they were headed. He didn’t rightfully know where Sansa lived, only that Robb was amazed at the flat she’d been able to afford.

Theon had been living in his sister’s houseboat before he’d been dropped off at the Crone’s Rest. She’d had it docked somewhere near Flea Bottom where the dock rates were next to nothing. Mostly because the blokes who rented the dock space were surprised to find you still alive in the morning.

In all honesty, he hadn’t missed it. He’d been in such a bloody hurry to leave the North that he’d forgotten how _nice_ it was to be truly alone. He knew Sansa’s flat was in a much nicer part of town, but it was still in the tightly compacted, elbow-bumping crowds of King’s Landing.

“What are you hungry for?” she asked, shifting into second. She drove this car like a dream. She’d improved greatly since he and Robb had attempted to teach her back when she’d been in high school. He wondered if she’d gotten a better teacher than Robb. He’d been impatient with her. Theon had helped more than Robb had, and he hadn’t helped much, except to make her burst into tears because his tone was apparently “patronizing”.

“Theon?” Her voice snapped him out of his memory, and he looked into her blue eyes before she cut them back to the road. “What are you hungry for?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking… whatever you want is fine.”

She sniffed and shot him a disbelieving smile.

“What?”

“You’ve been in rehab, eating hospital food for months and you don’t care what we eat?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “It was all shit, so anything is better.”

“Burgers,” she said definitively, shifting again.

“You’ve gotten good at that,” he blurted.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“No, I am. I was just thinking about when Robb and I tried to help you learn to drive a car with manual transmission.”

“Oh, _that_ ,” she laughed. “That was a nightmare, wasn’t it? I was unteachable.”

“You weren’t,” Theon jumped to defend her. “Robb was a bad teacher.”

“He’s still a bad teacher. I learned from Gendry.”

“Gendry?” His stomach tinged slightly. Like it was crumpling itself up. Which was odd.

“Oh, he’s Arya’s boyfriend. Gendry Waters. He’s a mechanic. He’s the one who found me this car, actually.” She smiled broadly. “He also taught me how to drive it. He said I was a nightmare student, but not unteachable anymore, so here I am. Driving a manual.” She grinned and Theon couldn’t help but grin also, the feeling in his stomach subsided. He chose not to pay it any mind.

“Arya’s got a boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah. But I always knew she’d find someone if she got out of that frozen wasteland. She’s a bit rough around the edges, but it works. Gendry can keep up with her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Theon said, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair and push it out of his face. It had grown long while he’d been at the Rest, and he was wishing he had accepted a hair elastic when one had been offered to him in the discharge unit.

But he hadn’t, so he had to deal with it now. He gave up on getting it completely out of his face and instead stared out the window at the passing street lights. They were approaching the outskirts of the city now, so things were brighter.

He wasn’t sure where she was headed for burgers, but she’d said takeaway. Which was just as well. He wasn’t dressed for going out. He was wearing the jeans he’d been arrested in. The t-shirt too. Both hung off him because detoxing made him lose weight.

At first, when he’d gotten through the detoxing part of rehab, he looked in the mirror as little as possible, because a gaunt skeleton stared back. He hadn’t even recognized himself.

Hell, Robb had blanched when he’d seen him.

By now, Theon had gained a bit of the lost weight back, but his old clothes still hung off him.

Dr. Luwin was confident he’d gain it back soon, though. And he’d been annoyingly right about everything else, so Theon had little to doubt him on now.

In addition to the ill-fitting clothes and long hair, he hadn’t shaved in a few months either. He couldn’t exactly grow a beard, so it just meant what was there was wispy and longer than it should be.

He likened his whole appearance to that of a hobo. The fact that Sansa hadn’t peeled out of the car park the second she saw him was a testament to her compassion.

“You want chips as well?” she asked.

“What?”

“With your burger? Chips?”

“Oh. yeah. Chips would be…” His mouth suddenly filled with saliva at the mere thought of chips. “Perfect.”

She smiled and turned on her blinker.

He glanced up at the familiar neon sign. Hot Pie’s. “Oh, we don’t have to go here.”

It was only his favourite. She couldn't have known that, could she? He hadn’t written her back. Who would she have heard it from? It was likely a lucky guess. Hot Pie’s wasn’t the hole-in-the-wall that it once had been.

“Nonsense. I ate here last week and it’s already been too long. I can’t imagine how it’s been for you.”

He waited as she pulled into a parking spot and rolled down the window. “What would you like?”

Hot-Pie’s was a casual sit-down restaurant, but they had a section of the car park cordoned off for a drive-in option as well. He had to lean over considerably to look at the menu, even though he knew damn well what he wanted.

“Number twelve,” he said, pretending to think it over. “Large. With a… root beer.”

“You got it,” she said, reaching out to press the button and order.

Theon realized belatedly that he should be getting out his wallet, but Sansa was already swiping her card and paying for everything.

“How much was mine?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it. My treat,” she said with a wink.

“No, I can pay you.”

He could. Only just, but he could. He didn’t want to owe her.

“Theon. It was my idea. And it’s my treat. Consider it a ‘congrats for finishing rehab’ gift, okay?

The food arrived a few moments later, and the second he unwrapped his double bacon cheeseburger, he was lost. It had been so long since he’d had anything that tasted like this.

They ate in relative silence. Sansa had a huge paper sack of malt vinegar and ketchup, and with the amounts they both used, they went through the entire bag on their chips.

Once they’d finished, she tossed the trash into one of the bins and pulled back out onto the road, heading towards a very nice part of town.

She drove around the edge of King’s Landing, along the parkway before she turned into a gated community. She’d explained to the man at the gate that she was having a guest for the foreseeable future. Theon corrected her in his mind. _Just one night_ , but the look of the guy at the gate made his mouth go dry. He was tall and half of his face was scarred.

‘Sandor’, she called him. And he looked at her like she hung the moon. And at Theon, like he’d mistakenly crawled out from some rock somewhere. He instinctively sat up a bit straighter as Sandor sorted out a temporary keycard for him. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but he was a mite scared of the unreasonably tall man who had nothing but shit looks for him.

There were three sky-high buildings beyond Sandor’s kiosk. The car parks were in the bottom levels, winding down under the ground.

Once she’d parked her car, she waited for him to get out and fetch his bag before locking the doors behind them. As they made their way to the lifts, he let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

“What?”

“Can’t believe you live in a place like this. I didn’t even know this was here.”

She smirked slightly. “Yeah… being an influencer sort of pays pretty well if you know what you’re doing.”

Robb had mentioned Sansa being an influencer once or twice, but Theon hadn’t put it together that she was one of _those_ Influencers. With a capital ‘I’.

“Yeah, something like that. I use Insta to showcase all my designs and stuff.”

“Oh right. You design clothes,” he said, realising belatedly how lame he sounded. He knew damn well what she did. She’d talked about it in her letters. Letters he’d reread more than once.

She took a sip of what was left of her drink, sucking at the ice loudly as the lift doors dinged in front of them, sliding open.

“I’m on the sixteenth floor,” she said, pocketing her keys and motioning for him to follow her onto the lift. She had to swipe her wallet in front of a touchscreen on the left side of the vestibule to get access to any of the floors. It looked like she had access to three, five, sixteen, and of course, the ground level. He wondered what was on three and five as the lift smoothly shifted and started to rise.

The interior of the lift was gold but reflective. It was like staring into a hall of golden mirrors. He cut his eyes to the side. She _was_ tall. He’d always known she would be. Her mother was. She was wearing the aforementioned white gauzy blouse that sort of fell off one shoulder. He never tended to notice such things or hadn’t in a while, but he supposed that was the lack of drugs clouding his system.

He thought her shoulder looked very nice, though. He quickly shifted his gaze to straight ahead. And then down to his feet because he wasn’t ready to confront his reflection yet.

He shouldn’t be staying here. It was too nice a place for him.

Sansa was too nice a person for him.

“Thank you, Sansa,” he mumbled.

“For what? Dinner? You already thanked me.”

“No, I mean… for all of it.”

She turned to stare at him. “It’s no problem, Theon. Believe me. I’m happy to do it.”

He swallowed the lump rising in his throat and reached behind his neck to scratch at a non-existent itch. For lack of anything better to do. He’d gone and made it more awkward and he wasn’t sure how to save it now.

The lift stopped and the doors opened and she stopped walking and held something out to him. The keycard Sandor had set up for him. “Sorry,” she said, “I meant to give you that before, but it slipped my mind… it has all the same permissions mine does. The gym’s on three, and the pools are all on five, so if you want to--”

“I won’t be here long enough to use any of that…”

“Still,” she extended her arm a bit more. “Here, while you are here, it’s yours.”

“Sansa,” he started again, biting his lips together to stop talking altogether. She was insistent. It’d be rude to keep refusing.

She passed her wallet in front of the door again, hand on the knob until the light turned green. Pushing it open, she walked inside, holding it for him to follow her.

Sansa’s looked the same general way most flats looked. With the express difference that this was obviously not a rental. She’d decorated and renovated a few things. The entire place smelled even more like her car than her car did. He just assumed it was Sansa’s scent or something. Lemons and vanilla. She smelled like those lemon cakes she always requested for her birthdays.

The realization didn’t surprise him, but it did make him wonder what he smelled like. Probably like hospital soap and detergent. He didn’t have any of his personal effects at the Rest, so he’d had to use what they provided everyone. In all likelihood, he smelled like perfunctory hospitality.

That’s what he felt like, anyway. Like he shouldn’t be here, but he was because it would have been considered rude to just leave him to overdose and die on his own. He pushed that thought out of his head. Maester Luwin would say it was superfluous.

He had every right to be alive. Just as everyone else did. Except for Ramsay. No amount of therapy could make Theon call Ramsay’s death a tragedy. It was a blessing, was what it was.

Letting out a breath, he watched as Sansa kicked off her shoes. He assumed that meant he should do it too, so he did. He kept his socks on though, silently thanking the housekeeping staff at the Rest for providing him with stark white socks. He couldn’t imagine being in this flat with dirty ones.

The front door opened into an entryway, which was narrow, there was a door to the left that was open. Inside was a bed and various other items.

This is you,” she replied, pushing the door open and flipping on the light switch. “You want the tour now or after you get settled?

“Now is fine,” he replied.

“Okay so, this is your room, the bathroom is across the hall. Sorry about the mess, this is also my sewing room.”

He’d recalled her talking about a sewing room. She must use it a lot. It wasn’t a mess, she had everything well organized. There was a dress maker’s dummy beside the window with half a gown pinned on it.

“I’ll only be here one night,” he assured her. “I know you likely need to use this room.”

She grinned. “ _Okay_ , Theon.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay,” she practically rolled her eyes at him.

“No, I really do,” it was difficult not to laugh at her, even if he was being serious and she refused to acknowledge it. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and led him down the corridor.

The washer and dryer were located just past his room, tucked into an alcove in the hallway. They didn’t stop by those, but Sansa did give them a mention as they passed. Then came the kitchen and the living area. There was a balcony that led out to the pitch-black night, which struck him as odd for King’s Landing, and a door to the right of the living area, which he rightly assumed was Sansa’s room.

She showed him where clean towels were and extra pillows if he needed them, walking slowly down the hall and pointing out the linen closet she’d missed on their first walkthrough.

“Can I go out on the balcony?” he asked, motioning towards the black window on the other end of the apartment.

She turned where he pointed as if she needed to see it beforehand or something. “Oh, yeah. Of course. There’s a light switch beside the door. I highly suggest using it. We’re on the sixteenth story. Also, I’m sorry if it’s a mess, I don’t like being out there.” She shivered a little.

“Why live on the sixteenth floor if you don’t like being up this high?” he asked, laughing a little.

She shrugged. “Nothing further down was available when I moved in.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, not wanting to pick at it further. It wasn’t his place.

He reached for the doorknob to the guest room and she surprised the seven hells out of him by grabbing his wrist and tugging him lightly. He turned and she enveloped him in a hug. Her arms wound around his shoulders, and she rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“I’m so glad you called me.”

His thoughts and feelings all bunched together like a knot in his throat, he tried to swallow it down, but it didn’t work. It stuck there as if to choke him. His instinct was to pull out of the hug, but he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around her waist and returned the embrace.

“I’m so glad you answered.” His voice surprised him. As did the words. He’d been thinking it, but he’d assumed everything was caught up in the tangle currently residing at the back of his throat. Apparently, he was wrong.

He released her before he wanted to, stepping back and scratching his head again.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“Find a place to stay.”

“You’ve found one.”

“Sansa…” His head fell to the side, so when he looked at her it was off-center.

“Just until you get back on your feet,” she countered.

“I can’t let you.”

“Nonsense. Now go in and get some sleep. We can figure out what you’d like to do tomorrow… _tomorrow_.”

He sighed as she left, he couldn’t help but watch her leave out of the corner of his eye.

Grabbing the doorknob again, he went into the guest room. It appeared that half the room was occupied by her sewing machine and the like. He had no problem getting situated, however, since he’d set foot in here, the cigarette in his shirt pocket felt like it was burning him.

Creeping silently into the hallway, he felt like he was doing something wrong as he searched through the kitchen drawers for matches. He didn’t flip on the light on the balcony and just stepped out there and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

There was an ache deep inside that begged to be filled, and his hands shook when he tugged the cigarette out of his pocket. He struck a match and watched the flame burn orange in the near darkness.

Instead of lighting it, though, he let the match fizzle out and struck another one. He was still shaking, and all he could hear in his head was what that orderly had said. “ _Take care of yourself, Greyjoy. Don’t want you to have a reason to learn my name.”_

He told him his name earlier, but Theon didn’t let himself even think about it. He let the spent match drop down to the ground with the other one and slipped the cigarette back into his pocket.

Glancing around, he saw the outline of a deck chair beside him. He sat down and stared out into the black. It was odd. They were too far into the city to see the stars, but the way the building was situated, there was no light pollution from the busier parts of the city. This window faced the bay, and if you squinted and ignored the traffic, you could almost pretend you weren’t in the Capital.

He knew logically that smoking cigarettes was fine. Maester Luwin had told him it was. The nicotine wouldn’t send him spiraling back into addiction.

But that cigarette in his pocket just… he didn’t want to.

He gulped in the warm air and exhaled loudly, pushing his hair out of his face.

Maybe he’d get a haircut tomorrow.


	2. Sansa I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry about the delay! I really didn't want it to be this long, but I wrote a chapter, didn't like it, scrapped it, and started over. This is the result.
> 
> Okay so first of Sansa's POV chapters here. 
> 
> I hope y'all like it!
> 
> Special thanks to treaddelicately for being my beta and my friend and letting me whine about this fic forever.

_ I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your time. I wish you happiness and tranquility in the coming week, and I hope if nothing else, my letter was boring enough to put you to sleep. _

* * *

When Sansa woke up the next morning, she was about ten minutes ahead of her alarm, but she’d also forgotten to close her blinds, so the sun was streaking across her bed and especially across her eyes, so it was sort of inevitable that it’d wake her up at some point.

She felt refreshed despite having gotten to bed a bit later the night before than she was used to. Sansa didn’t really fancy a lie in for only ten minutes, so she simply rolled out of bed and switched off her alarm. Her running clothes were laid out on her vanity chair, so she quickly changed and pulled her long hair back into first a ponytail and then a messy bun. The bun itself was almost as big as her head, but getting the curtain of hair out of the way while she ran was paramount.

She had her shoes in her hand when she reached her bedroom door, pulling it open and stopping short when she saw Theon standing there in front of the balcony, evidently coming inside from being out. Her eyebrows raised slightly and she nearly dropped her shoes.

It wasn’t that she’d forgotten he was there, she just wasn’t expecting to see him up this early. She always got up at this time to go for her morning run so she’d get the rest of her day finished up on time. She was an early riser. She sort of had to be now that her Instagram had become what it was. People in King’s Landing recognized her.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling and tucking her phone into the pocket on the back of her running pants.

“Morning,” he nodded in reply, his hands going to the pockets on his pyjama bottoms. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” she replied. “How about yourself?”

“Very well, actually. Your guest bed is very soft,” he replied.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, giving what she hoped looked a genuine grin because she wanted it to be genuine.

“You’re headed out already?” he asked, nodding to her shoes.

“Oh… yeah, I always run every morning,” she explained. “I’ll be back soon, though. About an hour… you can help yourself to anything in the fridge…” She gestured towards the kitchen and smiled brightly. “I don’t have much, but we can go to the shops later. I think I have eggs…” She immediately turned and went to the fridge. Her back prickled like it always did when she turned her back to the balcony. Even with a railing, a sliding door, and an entire living room between her and certain death, she still didn’t trust it. Not at all.

It was irrational, but she supposed irrational fears were supposed to be.

She pulled open the fridge door and checked the contents. “Yeah, I have eggs. And there’s bread in the bread box…” She closed the door and turned back to him. “Like I said, we can go to the shops later today.”

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ll make do.”

She flashed him another smile and bent to tug on her shoes. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“See you then,” he called as she went to the door.

She rode the elevator down to the ground floor, using the time and emptiness of the car to stretch a bit. She’d do a bit more before she started running, but it always helped to stretch more than less.

She did a bit of a mini-sprint across the parking lot, slowing down when she reached the guard’s station by the gate.

“Morning, Ms. Stark,” Sandor said gruffly.

“Morning, Sandor,’ she replied. “You can call me Sansa.”

“Glad to see you alive and well,” he said. What he didn’t say was more important, though. _Glad to see you alive and well, despite your company._

“Theon’s a family friend, Sandor,” she replied, smirking a bit. “He’s harmless.”

“Really? He looks like a murder hobo.”

“One might have said the same of you not so long ago.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t livin’ with you then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“You working tonight?” she asked, deftly ignoring his previous statement.

“I always do on Fridays,” he reminded her.

“Too right you do. Perhaps I’ll see you tonight.”

“Have a safe run, Ms. Stark.”

“Call me Sansa, Sandor!” She sprinted over to her starting place, pausing to do a bit more stretching and then taking off down the sidewalk.

She kept one earbud in her ear so she could listen for traffic, and put on her music, pausing at the end of the sidewalk to go down her usual route.

As she ran, she let her thoughts go blank, concentrated only on the beating of her heart and the music in her left ear. She loved running, for this reason. She could separate which thoughts were important to her and which were just fluff.

Now that she was running, all she could think about was Theon. She was sort of surprised with herself for asking him to stay with her. Because that hadn’t been what she’d been expecting to do when he rang.

Of course, she hadn’t been expecting him to be getting out either. It was surprising, and she’d reacted in a completely authentic way because she didn’t have time to second guess herself.

She supposed she should be surprised that he said yes if she was surprised about anything. She had no idea what his opinion of her was, other than the fact that he’d rung her. But he’d said that was because Robb was busy.

So had she asked him to stay with her out of pity? That was the question, wasn’t it? Was she pitying him or was it something else? When she looked at him, she didn’t feel sorry for him. She felt proud of him for overcoming it all. She didn’t see a sickly man in need of TLC, she saw a strong man who could take care of himself. But she wanted to help him in any way she could.

So it wasn’t pity. It was admiration?

Maybe.

Her feet thumped on the pavement as she made a turn and then slowed down to press the button at the crosswalk.

Robb had asked her the same question when she’d offered to write him letters.

Well, at first, she’d offered to go see him, and Robb had nixed that idea, insisting that Theon would take it as a charitable act, instead of one out of the goodness of her heart. And she had to agree with her brother on that, he likely would have.

But letters? Letters were something that wasn’t an insistent grab for attention. You could choose to interact with letters or not. Theon had obviously chosen not. And she hadn’t known for a while whether he’d even read them or not, but since he’d rung, she had to assume he had.

When she’d answered Robb’s question, her response had been eloquent. “Because you said he has no one. Everyone needs someone. It’s not taking time out of my day. I don’t mind doing it.”

And she hadn’t. Even though she had spent the better part of her Monday evenings composing letters to Theon that wouldn’t remind him of how he was living, and would instead help him think about other things.

She hadn't brought up his past at all, just her present. What she was doing currently. Small talk.

And then he rang her. He’d opened at least one of the letters with her phone number and rang.

She exhaled as she rounded another corner. Helping someone didn’t mean you pitied them. Not by a long shot. So she had nothing to worry about.

She wasn’t pitying him.

The rest of her run went smoothly, and she soon arrived back at the flat. Sandor had cleared out and Bronn was sitting there in his place. She wasn’t as friendly with him.

She caught sight of her reflection when she stepped into the lift and she abruptly averted her eyes. Her hair looked greasy and stringy, even up in a ponytail. And she had sweat dripping down her temples. Not an inch of her looked un-sweaty.

She hoped against hope that Theon would be in the shower or something when she got there so he wouldn’t have to see her like this, but her luck wasn’t running true, it seemed. He was standing by the stove with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, one hand on a panhandle, and the other flipping something in the pan.

The exact opposite of what she’d been hoping for, but for some reason, she wasn’t upset about that. Whatever he was cooking smelled wonderful.

“Oh, you’re home,” he said brightly, sliding what looked to be a perfect omelet onto a plate. He held it out to her, grabbing another plate with an equally perfect omelet for himself.

“You cooked?” she exclaimed. “I… I didn’t know you could do that.”

He chuckled. “You grow up with sailors, you learn a thing or two. They’re very particular about their food, and they’re very vocal about how it’s prepared. I used some of the mushrooms and cheese I found in the fridge, I hope that’s okay…” He looked almost worried for a second, but Sansa grinned in reply.

“It’s absolutely fine,” she exclaimed. “I love mushroom omelets, so…”

“So, I guess I could make it for you again,” he offered. “At least while I’m staying here. It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to do anything in order to stay here, Theon,’ Sansa assured him.

He chuckled. “I mean, logically, I know that. But it makes me feel better if I’m not just… some lump on your sofa.”

“Well, maybe I’ve been in the market for a sofa lump,” Sansa teased.

Theon’s smile deepened. “It appears that you’ve come to the right place. I did a lot of lumping at the Rest…” he stopped, frowned for a moment while he took a sip from his coffee mug. “That didn’t sound the way I’d intended, so let’s just—“

“Drop it? Never. Tell me. How does one ‘lump’?” She grinned and shoveled a forkful of egg into her mouth. “Oh holy fuck, this is good.” It was also hot, but she wasn’t about to lose face now.

“Good enough to forget I used lump as a verb?”

She swallowed and shook her head, patting her mouth with a napkin. “Fat chance, Greyjoy. I desire a lumping lesson.”

He snorted. “I’m sure you could find someone who was very interested in giving them to you.”

Her face turned beet red and she snorted out a laugh into her napkin before standing up to go pour herself a cup of coffee. “I apologise, but I didn’t see anything dirty in what you said.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m the one who should apologise. For destroying your innocence.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Theon, I hate to break it to you, but that’s been gone for quite some time.”

“Not _quite_ some time, surely,” he retorted. “You’re what… twenty-three? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of innocence left. Regardless of me and my filthy mind.”

She wasn’t sure why, but him mentioning his filthy mind made her stomach roll. Which, as it happened, wasn’t very pleasant considering she’d just eaten a very hot mushroom omelet.

“If anything, one could argue that your filthy mind actually portrays innocence. Considering that twelve-year-olds are more likely to make that joke than, what…. Twenty-seven-year-olds?” she countered.

He laughed into his coffee cup, which both muffled and echoed the sound. “I suppose you’re right. That was twelve-year-old humour.”

She came back to her seat to finish eating her omelet.

“So speaking of things a twenty-seven-year-old should do…” Theon began, laying his fork across his empty plate.

“Yes?”

“I rang the bank while you were gone. It seems Robb got them to leave my account alone, and it’s still got a balance. In fact, with my automatic trust going into it every month, I’ve got quite a tidy sum in… all I have to do is go get them to print another card.”

“Oh? That’s great, Theon! What’s the trust from? I thought your—”

“My mum’s family had all the money, and she left it to me and Yara, but only after we turned twenty-five, and only a bit every month, like an income.”

“That’s lucky.”

He shrugged. “I suppose. I feel like it just keeps me from getting that fear, you know? The fear that makes you wanna get a job?” He shrugged. “Might have to make a career out of lumping after all.”

She snorted, which brought her coffee right up her nose. It burned like the seven hells, but she was laughing too hard to care. She reached for a napkin and held it to her nose while Theon tried not to let his own laughter show and instead ask her if she was okay.

“You alright, Sans? Sansa, you know you’re supposed to drink it, not snort it, right? Believe me, I would know.”

The self-deprecating humour aside, Sansa finally got herself under control. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “But after you made it clear what lumping was referring to, the thought of you doing it for a living was…”

“What, hilarious?” he asked.

“Well, yeah!”

“Why’s that? I’m good at it.”

She giggled and shook her head. “No, no. I don’t need to know about that.”

“I’ll admit, I’m out of practice, but I’m not horrible at it, Sansa,” he chastised, appearing scandalized.

She lay her fork on her empty plate and went to stand to take her plate over to the sink, but he stopped her, hand on her arm, and took it himself.

“Theon,” she protested.

“I can do this,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t bother me at all, Sansa.”

“Well, if you’ve got all this money, you could just find a place today, couldn’t you?” she asked. “So I can go back to doing it for myself.”

He looked stricken for a long moment and she immediately regretted bringing it up. “Unless…” she began, swinging her legs on the chair.

“Unless,” he repeated, turning on the water full blast and forcing her to speak over it.

“Unless you moved in here.”

He either pretended he didn’t hear or was mulling it over because he didn’t answer for a long moment. The longest.

“You need that room,” he finally answered. “You said it yourself in your letters. You’ve got some flashy boutique interested in your designs.”

Sansa smiled slightly. So he _had_ read her letters.

“What?” he asked, reaching for the towel he’d discarded earlier and drying his hands.

“You read my letters.”

“Of course I fucking did,” he said as if it was obvious or something.

“Well, I had no way of knowing that,” she replied.

“Well…” he began, his mouth hanging open for a moment before closing it again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have written you back.”

“No,” she said. “That’s not why I wrote them.”

“Why did you?” he asked, folding the towel over itself twice before hanging it on the handle of the stove door. “We haven’t spoken in years, Sansa.”

“I know…” she said, looking down at her fingernails and resisting the urge to pick at her cuticles. “But I did it because I wanted to.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And yet, you did say it.”He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever you say. You’re a nutter, you are.”

“Think about it,” she said. “At least until you find your perfect flat. I don’t want you moving into any old hovel that opens up just because you think you’re putting me out.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised.

She sniffed derisively. “I need a shower.”

He looked at her as if she was insane. Why was she telling him that? She didn’t know.

“You don’t want to take one first?” she offered slowly like that had been her intention all along.

“Oh! No. No, you go ahead.”

“You’re sure? I won’t use all the hot water.”

She practically bolted from the room, wondering how on earth they’d gone from quiet politeness to old friends to nutty woman and suspicious man in so short a time. It was like whiplash, it was.

Turning on her shower, she paired her phone to the speakers, playing music to drown out her thoughts while she stepped inside and washed all the sweat she’d accrued from her run.

All three showerheads were on. Which felt nothing short of decadent no matter how many times she used this shower.

She washed and conditioned her hair and used her special shower gel that she was trying to form an opinion on. It was fine, but she wasn’t sure the price tag made it worth it. Of course, she hadn’t had to pay for it. She’d gotten a three-month supply shipped to her door without even asking. Some up and coming company who wanted her to review it and put them on the map.

It happened a lot, and she couldn’t do this with every product she received, obviously, but she could do it on the new businesses.

It was missing something, but she wasn’t sure what.

She finished washing and stood under the triple stream of water for a long moment, but remembered she’d promised Theon not to use up all the hot water, so she quickly ended her shower and stepped out into the steamy bathroom.

She dried off and quickly got some anti-tangling serum into her hair, working it from root to tip as she sat at her vanity, unable to get his strange reactions out of her head.

He’d gone from assuring her of his prowess to being uncomfortable with her offer to help.

Was it emasculating?

She couldn’t see how it was. He had money now. How was her offer anything other than nice?

Dressing quickly, she pulled on a flowy dress before walking back out into the living room.

Theon was sitting on the sofa, looking at his phone when she arrived in the room. He looked up when she got there, still drying her hair with a towel. “Did you use all the hot water?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not even close,” she replied, flopping down in the armchair. “Please do your worst.”

He pushed up and went down the hall to the bathroom. Sansa grabbed the remote and switched on the television, flipping through her ‘to watch’ list on Netflix when Theon poked his head out of the bathroom a few minutes later. “Hey, Sansa…”

“Hmm?” she replied.

“There are plants in this shower. And also no soap. Or shampoo. Or anything.”

“Oh shit,” she leaped up, leaving the towel on the back of the chair. “Right, sorry. I don’t use that bathroom for anything other than watering my plants… all the shower stuff is in my bathroom… so you can just use that.”

He paused. “But I already…” He sighed. “Okay, hold on.”

The door closed and Sansa took her seat back in the chair, surprised when he booked it down the hall in a grey towel. She leaped up and quickly showed him to the bathroom, trying very hard not to look where the towel was slung low on his hips.

He looked bony, but his muscle tone was still there.

She couldn’t help looking. But she could restrain herself from staring.

“Just in there,” she said, gesturing to the bathroom. “The shower’s on a touch screen, so just tap the screen to turn it on and then slide it to the water temp you want… there’s numerical temp and also just a spectrum from blue to red... You can also connect your Spotify if you want to listen to music.”

He looked at her like she had a squid attached to her head.

“It’s very intuitive, I promise… unless you want me to turn it on for you?”

“No, no… I’ve got it…”

“Right, sorry…” she backed out of the bathroom and shut the door, pausing outside to call back inside. “Hey, yeah… you can use whatever you want in there. Sorry, it’s all girly, but again, we can go to the shops later.”

“It’s fine for now, Sansa. Thank you.”

She went back into the living room, deciding on a rewatch of one of her favourite shows rather than starting something new. Once she had it on, she finger-combed her hair while it dried.

Theon came out after about twenty minutes, a clean shirt on, and a pair of jeans as well. He had the towel around his shoulders, reaching back to pull it up over his head to scrub at his hair once more while he sat on the sofa.

“Did you use the music feature?” she asked.

“No, but I vastly enjoyed your shower mix,” he said with a smirk.

“Shit, I forgot to unpair my account… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. Like I said. I enjoyed your shower mix. The Divinyls were great music to scrub by.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she groaned. “Yeah, I like that song, sue me. It’s fun to sing in the shower and I refuse to apologise.”

“No one said you had to,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “So umm, at the risk of sounding like a leech, can I ask a favour?”

She smiled and reached for a new section of her hair. “Absolutely, what is it you need?”

“Do you still give haircuts?”

Her mouth quirked in the corners. She hadn’t thought about that in years.

She _had_ given Robb haircuts. And Theon, when he needed one. And Rickon. And Bran. It had all started when Arya had convinced her to help her cut her hair into a pixie cut.

Catelyn had flat out refused to take Arya to the hairdresser to get that much of her hair cut off, so Arya had filched the pair of clippers Mom used on the boys and brought them into the bathroom she shared with Sansa.

“Sans…” she whispered. “Cut my hair.”

“No. I’m not getting in Mom’s way,” Sansa refused. This only prompted Arya to take the clippers and buzz the side of her head, lopping off a huge chunk of hair and then placing them down on the countertop, arching an eyebrow and daring Sansa not to fix the mess she’d made.

And she knew Sansa so fucking well. Because she picked them up and did the best she possibly could with what she had. Which were youtube and a pair of subpar hair clippers.

Arya had emerged with a new pixie cut, and the boys had immediately drafted Sansa to cut their hair instead of Catelyn.

Robb had gotten Sansa to practice on Theon’s hair first before she tried it on his. And after she’d done a fairly decent job on Theon’s loose curls, Robb had agreed to let Sansa give his hair a shot. And after that, she’d done all of Robb’s haircuts from then on.

Or at least, until he got hired on to a law firm and had his own disposable income to pay a proper hairdresser.

So Theon asking her now brought back happy memories. Even if Mum had been a bit titchy for a while.

“I can, I just need a set of clippers.”

“Oh, well… I suppose I can just go to a hairdresser later. Maybe tomorrow? Please don’t go to any trouble on my account.”

She already had her phone out, ringing Arya. “No, it’s fine. Arya has a set. I’ll ask her to bring it over and I can cut it for you tonight.”

“Sansa, you really don’t have—“

“It’s no trouble, Theon. I don’t have any other plans today.”

He sighed and let the towel rest against the back of his head as he let it fall on the couch, his eyes turning towards the television. “Well, thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” she insisted.

Arya picked up on the fifth ring, just before the call went to voicemail. “Oi, Sansa… it’s fucking early.”

“It’s fucking eleven o’clock, you dirty vagrant. Get out of bed already.”

Arya groaned and Sansa heard muffled shifting as she sat up in bed.

“What do you want, Sansa?”

“I need the clippers.”

“The _hair_ clippers?”

“No, the ones for the lawn. Yes, the hair clippers.”

“Well, you’re still four videos into that series on hair growth you’re doing for your channel, so I know they can’t be for you. Which means you’ve got a bloke over and you’re cutting his hair. Who’s your bloke?”

“I don’t have a bloke, Arya…”

“You’ve got someone.”

“It’s not important.”

“Sansa, it _is_ important if you’re going to use my hair clippers on someone else’s head. What if they’re disgusting?”

“They aren’t.”

“How do I know that if you don’t tell me who the fuck it is?”

“It’s Theon.”

“Theon?”

“Greyjoy.”

“Yes, Sansa. I’ve fucking known the idiot for most of my life. I fucking know who Theon Greyjoy is,” she snapped.

“Well… you were the one who asked…”

“Why are you cutting Theon Greyjoy’s hair? Isn’t he in rehab?”

“He’s out.”

“What, did he escape? That’s so fucking hot, Sansa…”

“He didn’t escape, idiot. His sentence has ended.”

“And he went to _you_? When?”

“Last night.”

“Really. Because Robb rang me this morning and said he was coming down to see Theon on Monday. Bringing his car down to Gendry so he can take a look at it.”

“Why are you yelling at me for ringing you early if Robb did it earlier?”

“Because it’s so easy to mess with you.”

Sansa sighed. “Fine. Why is he...?”

“I dunno. Said the car was making a funny noise or something. Wants Gendry to give it a look.”

“No, not that…” Sansa sighed. “Why is he coming to visit Theon? He knows he’s out.”

“No, I don’t think he does.”

“Well, he must. They tell each other everything…”

Theon was sitting on the sofa still and he glanced over questioningly.

Sansa raised one hand in the air, her finger extended. She’d just be a moment.

“Well, they didn’t tell each other this,” Arya explained.

She pulled the receiver away from her face and turned to Theon. “You didn’t tell Robb you were getting out?”

“No,” he replied. “I told you that when I rang you.”

“No, you said he was busy.”

“And he likely was.”

Sansa pressed her lips together and went back to the phone call. “Well, I’ll make sure he rings Robb and sets the record straight.”

“Whatever, it’s no skin off my nose,” Arya replied. “I can tell him if you want. When I drop the clippers off.”

“You’re not coming over here,” Sansa said quickly. “There’s no reason for you to come over here.”

“Hey Bronn,” Arya said sweetly. And Sansa wished she could reach through the phone and strangle the little wretch. Bronn was the name of the day watchman at the gate, and if she was saying hi to him, that meant she was already in the parking garage.

She lived a short walk away from here, in another building, but down the street.

“Did you leave your place as soon as I asked for the clippers?”

“As soon as I found out you had someone over there.”

“Arya. You’re a menace to society. And to my sanity.”

“At your service. I’m getting in the elevator, so I might lose you.”

“So hang up.”

“In the middle of a conversation, Sansa? Why would I do that? That’s rude as fuck.”

“For gods’ sake, Arya…” She hung up the phone and put her face in her hands. “Arya’s coming over.”

“I gathered,” Theon replied.

“Why didn’t you tell Robb you were getting out?” Sansa asked.

“Not sure this is a conversation we should have in the thirty seconds before your PI sister winds up here.”

“Well, that’s what we’re left with. Because we won’t be rid of her all day, Theon.”

He sighed. “I didn’t tell him because…”

The doorbell rang simultaneously with the front door opening. He gave it a worried look down the hall.

“She has a keycard.”

“Obviously she does.”

“Yep.”

Arya strolled into the living room, placing her hands on the back of Sansa’s chair. She had to strain to see her properly.

“Hullo,” Arya said, beaming.

“Arya,” Theon said, dipping his head in greeting.

“Hey, Arya…” Sans said, sighing heavily.

“Sis,” she replied. “Hey Theon, how are you?”

“Can’t complain,” he replied.

“Where are the clippers?” Sansa asked.

“Left em in the car,” she replied.

“Oh, come on…”

“What? We can go get them soon. Or Theon could go now.”

Sansa scoffed. “Absolutely not, you go and—“

“I’ll go,” Theon said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand for the keys. “Anything to get out of whatever _this_ is.” He left his damp towel folded over the stool in the kitchen, taking Arya’s keys as he passed her.

He slipped on his trainers at the door and was gone soon after.

“That was so rude,” Sansa hissed.

“He’s fine. Now… I have to know…” Arya steepled her fingers. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Sansa asked.

“You know exactly what.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sansa shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit, it’s not…” Arya countered. “What other reason could he have? What exactly was in those letters you sent him?”

“Arya… _stop_ it,” Sansa said, disgusted. “I can’t be nice to someone? A family friend, no less? A childhood friend.”

Arya shot her a knowing look. “Really? A childhood friend? He was an absolute shit to you.”

“So were you.”

“Not the same way he was, Sansa, come on. Give me some credit.”

“So you’re saying I should have just left him to rot on the sidewalk?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. You know I love Theon. As much as Robb. Sometimes more. Robb was a shit too.”

Sansa chuckled. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying there’s a missing component here. You guys were civil in high school and after, but that’s all I’d call you. Although I think you really hit your stride the year Robb and Marg were planning their wedding, then he sort of disappeared into that life he had and you… you do the Influencer thing. There’s no reason why he would want to stay here with you, other than--”

“Wow, nice, Arya! I’m glad you think so highly of me!”

Arya wrinkled her nose. “Sansa. I wouldn’t judge you in the slightest. Theon’s… he’s well fit. And he’s through with all the baggage. Who could blame you? Especially if you’d been carrying a torch all these years.”

“I wasn’t. There’s no torch. I was just being nice.”

Her sister shot her an incredulous look. “No one’s that nice, Sansa. Not even you.”

Sighing heavily, Sansa pushed up to her feet. “I’m through with this discussion.”

“Okay! Okay. Calm down. So you’re not sleeping with him. I was testing you. Clearly, you’re that nice. You’re too fucking nice if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.”

Arya pressed her lips together, clearly annoyed. Sansa had fulfilled her objective. “ _Fine_ , but can you answer me this: Why didn’t he call Robb?”

Sansa exhaled loudly, puffing out her cheeks in the process as she flopped back into the armchair. “I don’t know. It’s likely not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Oh, believe me, I plan on it.”

“Good, go ask him now.”

Arya sighed and sat down on the end of the sofa. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sansa’s heart swelled when she looked at her sister. “You don’t have to look out for me. I’m the older sister. I should be looking out for you.”

“Yeah? What if I don’t need you.”

“I know you don’t,” she replied.

“Yes, I do,” Arya countered.

“You’re impossible.”

She smirked. “But that’s why you love me. You love impossible things. Hence why Theon is here.”

Sansa groaned. “Just don’t make him uncomfortable, Arya. He only just got out of rehab.”

“I’m not going to. Sheesh, what kind of an asshole do you take me for?”

“The kind that gets off on shit like this.”

“Nonsense. I’m only here to make _you_ uncomfortable, Sansa.”

“You’ve succeeded. You can go now. I’ll bring the clippers over tomorrow and we can go out for brunch.”

“No! I have exactly four-thousand questions to ask you.”

“Which you can ask me at brunch.”

Arya pouted. “I hate brunch though.”

Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Ring me later, then. I”m not answering anything in front of him.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“ _Fine_.”

Theon arrived back in the flat soon after that, holding a plastic grocery sack with something in it.

“Your car alarm doesn’t work,” he told her, tossing the keys in her direction.

“Yeah, I know. It’s blown my cover too many times so I disconnected it. Or had Gendry do it at any rate.”

Sansa took the bag from him and peered inside, hoping like hell all the guards were here too.

“Did you bring all the guards.”

“Yes. To be sure, I did, O-sister-of-mine.”

“Amazing,” Sansa deadpanned, looking at Theon. “Wanna head in the other room for this?”

She tried not to look at Arya as they headed for the bathroom, but she could feel her eyes on her back all the same. She pushed open the bathroom door and yanked her vanity chair into the middle of the tiled floor, away from all the bath mats.

“Might want to take off your shirt for this, Theon.”

“Everything okay?” he asked, reaching behind his head to yank off his shirt.

“Yeah. Just Arya being Arya.”

“Doesn’t trust me not to fuck you over?”

Sansa chuckled softly. “Something like that. Maybe not in so many words.”

“I’m… I’m not going to, Sans.”

“I know,” she replied, plugging the clippers into the nearest outlet and grabbing a clean towel from the shelf on the opposite wall. She unfolded it and shook it out. “Here, drape this over your shoulders.”

“I mean it, I’ve cut off everyone from my past. I’m not trying to hide anything here. Or from you. I promise.”

She looked up into his eyes, noticing certainly not for the first time, but for the first time since he’d been here, just how clear and blue they were. “Theon. I never said you were. I never suspected it.”

“I would have.”

A crooked smile formed. “But you’re not me.”

He looked torn for a long moment. “I’ll ring Robb tonight. If you’d like, I can stay with him until--”

“There was a reason you didn’t ring him,” she said slowly. “And I don’t mind having you here. So whatever your reason, you don’t have to compromise.”

“It’s the baby,” he blurted.

Sansa frowned. “The baby? Marg hasn’t had him yet.”

“I know, but… if you were having a baby, would you want a dirty loser sleeping in your spare room? I know you likely don’t want that either, but… Robb’s already done so much for me. I can’t ask him for more, you know?”

Sansa nodded. “I know that Robb would do anything for you. He loves you, Theon.”

“I love him too. Which is why I can’t keep ringing him.”

She swallowed back the lump at the back of her throat. “You know that would break his heart.”

“I know. I’m between a rock and a hard place.”

“Well, look. I am not saying it’s a long term solution, but you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

“I don’t need to, though…” he said, trailing off. “I have money, I can find another place and--”

“Being financially ready doesn’t mean you’re emotionally ready. Or mentally ready.”

“I know that, but--”

“Theon. Just stay here, okay? I”m not suspicious of you or anything. My place is big enough for two people to barely see each other. It’s a perfect arrangement. At least try it for a little while. If I’m not too terrible of a roommate.”

“Your shower is weird,” he said with a laugh. “I’d very much like to use the guest bathroom.”

“Haircut first,” she said. “And then we’ll go to the shops and make that happen.”

He smiled, reminiscent of a grin as he slung the towel around his bare shoulders. “Do your worst.”

Sansa grabbed a comb from the vanity and combed the tangles out of his hair, causing him to wince on more than one occasion.

“Sorry,” she said softly.

“S’okay. I haven’t been taking care of myself like I should.”

“You had an excuse, I think,” she assured him.

“Still…”

Once his hair was soft, damp, and tangle-free, she ran her fingers over his scalp and he shivered. She brought out strands to inspect them, trying not to pay attention to how gooseflesh erupted on his neck every time she touched him. Or how his jaw clenched and unclenched.

She finally started cutting with scissors in the back, removing the excess length before setting in with the clippers.

Holding the clippers in one hand, she stifled a smile and pretended to buzz his head along his temple. “Oops.”

He peered up at her through eyes narrowed into slits. “Please tell me you’re still doing that bit that you used to do.”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah. That was a bit. I haven’t started yet.”

He snorted and went back to closing his eyes. “Wasn’t funny _then_ , you know. It was kind of dorky.”

“What about now?” she asked, running her fingers through the roughly cut hair.

“Still dorky. But I’m laughing, so I guess my sense of humour has evolved.”

As she began to cut the hair, she noticed his eyes open and follow her reflection in the mirror. She tried to keep on task and not on the pair of impossibly blue eyes trained on her.

She kept it close in the back, tapering up as she went until she got to the top. She left that the slightest bit longer than the back and went back with the scissors to cut it, leaving a bit of the curl so he could easily style it.

With every pass of her fingers, she felt a thrill deep in her belly. And then she leaned down to blow a puff of air over his left ear to dislodge the hair stuck to the tip of it, and he closed his eyes.

She repeated the action and he swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to blow the hair off your ear,” she replied. “Want me to stop?”

“No, but don’t you have a brush you could use for that?”

“Oh, yes! I do, actually…” She went to rummage in her makeup bag for one of her larger brushes, which she used to brush the stray hairs from his ears and neck.

She finished up his head and came around to the front to run her fingers through his hair and check that it was even on both sides. “You wanna do your beard too?” she asked, her voice low and raspy.

“What?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking directly into hers. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Here…” she said, stepping out of his way and handing off the clippers to him.

She turned and left the room, taking deep breaths because it was the close proximity to a man that was getting her. Not that it was Theon. There weren’t feelings like that between them. She’d just been so long without that she might be a bit touch-starved. Theon too, now that she thought about it. She couldn’t think of a time in rehab or his life before that where someone would voluntarily touch him. That’s all it was, and it’d go away soon enough.

When she sat down on the sofa, Arya shot her a look before going back to her phone. “How’d it go? Is he bald?”

Sansa snorted. “Yeah.”

Theon emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, the clippers and all the attachments in his hands, which he deposited back in the bag Arya had brought them in. “Thanks, Arya. And Thank you too, Sansa.”

Arya gave him a quick look and nodded in approval. “Lookin’ good, Theon. Definitely not hobo chic anymore.”

He did look good. He’d taken his beard down to a very short length, so it looked more like five o’clock shadow than anything else. You could see the cut of his jaw and his cheekbones. And Sansa had already seen his hair.

It was one of her better haircuts if she did say so herself. Especially after waiting for so long since the last time she’d done one. Arya cut her own hair now, and Sansa had been moved out long enough to not be saddled with cutting Rickon and Bran’s hair anymore.

Theon looked really good. As his hair dried, the top was sort of fluffier than the sides. It looked very nice.

“You like it?” he asked, running his hand through his newly shorn hair. “Sansa did a good job.”

“She certainly did,” Arya said with a smirk.

Sansa rolled her eyes and rose to her feet to head back into the bathroom to clean it up.

“I cleaned everything in there already…” Theon said softly. “Didn’t want to leave a mess for you.”

“Oh… okay,” Sansa stopped in the doorway, reaching up to run her fingers through her mostly damp hair. She wasn’t sure what to do now that she was up, but she couldn’t sit there and have an uncomfortable family hour with Arya, who seemed dead convinced that something was amiss here.

There wasn’t.

“Um, if you don’t mind, I might take you up on the offer to go to the shops,” Theon said. “I’ll need to run by the bank to get a new card printed, but I could pay you back for—“

“You don’t have to pay me back for anything, Theon,” Sansa reminded him.

“Well, I can buy groceries, anyway,” he countered. “You’re right, you’ve got practically nothing here.”

“Hey! I drink smoothies for breakfast and—“

“And she eats birdseed for the rest of the day,” Arya finished for her.

“Oi,” Sansa protested. “I eat regular food. It’s just weird to cook for one person. It’s such small amounts. Be my guest, though. If you want to take over the cooking, I will not stop you.”

Theon shrugged. “Not a problem.”

“Great, let me go get some shoes and we can head down to the shops.” She paused for a moment before turning to address Arya. “Yeah, so we’re going to be gone, so…”

“So, I’ll just wait here for you,” Arya replied, propping her feet on the coffee table.

Sansa sighed and went into her room to slip on a pair of shoes and a light jacket over her dress. She ducked into the bathroom to add the barest hint of makeup. The barest hint took her about ten minutes, though. She came back out into the living room to Arya and Theon laughing.

“See? Told you that’s what she was doing. She can’t go anywhere without makeup on.”

Sansa sighed in exasperation. “I go running every morning without it.”

“Besides that.”

“Whatever, just shush, Arya. Don’t break anything while we’re gone.”

“Have fun, you two,” she sing-songed over her shoulder.

The elevator ride was uneventful, as was the walk to the car park.

They got into her car and drove down to Theon’s bank, which had a walk-in location near Sansa’s flat, so she parked in front while Theon went inside to get a card printed.

It took him longer to get one than she’d been expecting, but soon he was leaving the bank, holding the door for someone who came in behind him and then jogging to the car to make up for the lost time. He slid into the front seat, sliding his new card into his wallet.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Just was a line,” he replied with a nod.

“Groceries first? Or do you need the drug store?”

“Drug store first,” he said.

There was a drug store in a mini-mall a short drive away, so she headed there. She parked and got out of the car when he did, opting to head into Sephora instead of following Theon around in the drug store.

She perused the makeup and purchased another liquid eyeliner that she didn’t need just to save face for not buying anything in the store because of course, everyone in the store recognized her. When she’d done her Sephora-sponsored video, she’d gained a shit ton of followers, so when she walked into places like this, she couldn’t get out without being hounded by ‘fans’.

She used the term loosely because she had a lot of hate-watchers too. Came with the territory.

After she’d completed her purchase, Sansa started to leave the store, tucking the small bag into her purse as she crossed the crosswalk to the paved area where Theon was waiting for her with a bag of his own.

_“Oh my gods, SANSA!”_

Raising her eyebrows, Sansa turned around and was surprised to find a girl she’d never seen before running up to her.

“Oh, my gods. I cannot believe it’s you! You’re Sansa Stark! And you’re…” The girl stopped speaking to take a few gasping breaths

“Calm down now,” Sansa said, reaching out to touch her arm. “Are you alright?”

“Oh gods, I’m fine. I’m so very fine. And you’re even more beautiful in person! And gods, you’re so tall!” The girl looked her up and down. “You don’t look this tall on Insta.”

Sansa smiled. “Yeah, it’s hard to convey that on social media.”

The girl laughed loudly and Theon cleared his throat.

“Oh, hello,” the girl said, ducking around Sansa. “I don’t know you.”

“That’s Theon,” Sansa said abruptly. “He’s my roommate.”

“I didn’t know you had a roommate!” The girl squealed again. “What’s it like to live with Sansa Stark? Isn’t her house just gorgeous?”

“Yeah, yeah… that’s what it is. Gorgeous,” he said.

“What can I do for you?” Sansa asked, drawing the girl’s attention back to her.

“Oh gods, I just couldn’t believe it was you! I’m on Insta as well, I do beauty vlogs too, but—“

“What’s your handle?” Sansa asked, whipping out her phone. “I’ll give you a follow.”

“Oh gods!” the girl shrieked and nearly started sobbing. “Can I have a selfie?”

“Absolutely!” Sansa said, and the girl leaned in and held her phone out. Sansa beamed and held up two fingers in a peace sign while the girl snapped about four selfies until she found one she liked.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“No problem!” Sansa scrolled through the girl’s Instagram page on her phone. “I’ll give you a shoutout when I film my next video, okay? It’s on natural concealers, so I’ll just link you and shoutout, alright?”

The girl really started sobbing then and hugged her tightly.

“You’re welcome, darling. I have to go now, but you have an awesome week, okay?”

“Okay!” The girl waved excitedly between sobs.

Theon eyed her as they turned back to her car, but he waited until they got in the seats before he said anything.

“Okay, I’ve never seen anything like that before. How many followers did you say you had?”

She shrugged and flipped on the radio. “I have a few.”

“What’s your Instagram handle?” he asked.

“Steelyporcelain,” she replied. “Came up with the handle when I was much younger, but I got famous with it, so I can’t change it. It’s my brand now.”

“Your _brand_?” Theon repeated, reaching for his phone.

“Wait…” Her hand came out to grasp at his wrist and he froze. “Just wait until I’m not sitting with you when you look at that.”

“Why?”

“I’m self-conscious,” she said with a shrug. “Now, to the grocery store?”

“Yeah, let’s go there.”

They ventured into the grocery store together and Sansa pushed the trolley while Theon dumped things into it. Beginning with chicken for dinner that night.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she protested.

“Nonsense. You’re eating frozen meals and green smoothies,” he made a face.

“Hey, my smoothies are good.”

“They aren’t,” he retorted. “Absolutely not. Besides. I like cooking. Is Arya staying for dinner?”

She laughed. “Yeah, and Gendry too.”

“Gendry? Did they ring you?”

“No. I just know my sister. If she’s staying, Gendry will be along after he’s off work. You’ll have to feed him too. And that boy eats like a horse.”

“So horse chow?” he offered, grinning a little.

She rolled her eyes and dragged him over to the produce department. While he was choosing some sweet potatoes, she grabbed a few things to make a salad, since that was the only thing she could make that was palatable.

“So how much chicken should I have gotten?” Theon asked as she piled the salad things into the cart. “How many people am I feeding?”

“Five,” she replied.

“How do you figure? Gendry gets two?”

She laughed. “No, not at all. One for each you, me, Arya and Gendry, and then an extra one for Sandor.”

“Sandor? The nightwatchman?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to get him on your good side. He called you a murder hobo today. And he loves chicken, so this will help.”

“Fair enough.”

The drive back to the flat was mostly spent with Sansa singing along to the radio and threatening to take Theon’s phone from him if he opened Instagram with her in the car one more time.

“Why do you care if I see your profile, Sansa?” he finally asked, half laughing as she tossed his phone in the backseat of her car.

“Because. I’m self-conscious.”

“That’s bull. You’ve got plenty of confidence.”

She smiled a bit. “That’s nice that you seem to think so.”

“I know so,” he said. “You put yourself out there. People apparently love you. That girl just about pissed herself outside the drug store today.”

Sansa chuckled. “She’s young. It’s always like that when they’re young.”

“So? I’m sure I’ll be very impressed with everything you’ve done…”

“I’m self-conscious because I take my own pictures,” she blurted. “And you’re… you’re you.”

“Sansa… I haven’t picked up a camera in years.”

“Still? You had the eye.” She pointed at hers and stared at him comically sideways. “Still got it, I’d wager. You’re going to look at my pictures and see everything wrong with them.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t say anything.”

She shot him a look and went to turn up the radio.

“That was a joke, Sans.”

“I know, but… listen. I’d rather if you looked when I wasn’t sitting here next to you. I’d feel awkward.”

“Fair enough. But you can’t look at any of my design sketches while I’m in the room.”

She snorted. “You have design sketches?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms haughtily. “I could have.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “I’m sure they’re lovely.”

“Still. I wouldn’t want you to look at them and pick out everything wrong with them.”

“What are they of?”

“Myself in brocade suits,” he retorted. “They’re cut really specific to me, but I think it’s high time men with my particular shape are represented in fashion.”

“Oh gods, stop it,” she said with a laugh.

“Do you see how silly you sound?” he asked, leaning over slightly to murmur the words. Whether he was going for it or not, it made her skin tingle.

What was it about his voice that did that? The deepness? It used to do that to her when she was younger as well. He had one of those voices. Likely why all the girls liked him in high school.

“I’m never silly,” she retorted.

“Oh, of course not. I simply meant your logic was silly.”

“Never in my life have I been so insulted,” she deadpanned, grinning as they pulled into the car park.

They took the bags upstairs and sure enough when they opened the door, Arya and Gendry were laying across each other on the sofa while Arya played Mario Kart by herself. Which was usually how Mario Kart went down.

It wasn’t that no one else liked the game, Sansa quite liked it, as evidenced by how she owned it. But neither she nor Gendry would ever play with Arya again. She was a sore winner and an even sorer loser. She was impossible.

Sansa left the grocery bags in the kitchen at Theon’s behest and went to join the other two in the living room. Theon started putting everything away and getting the chicken started.

“Did you introduce Gendry?” Sansa asked Arya.

“Theon!” Arya called

“Hmm?”

“This is Gendry. My _lover_.”

Gendry and Sansa both groaned. “Oh gross, Arya…” Sansa groaned.

“Stop calling me that or I’ll stop doing it,” Gendry warned.

Theon chuckled and Arya simply beamed, not looking up from the screen. “You asked me to introduce him. I did.”

Sansa turned her attention back to the television and her blood ran cold when Theon exclaimed aloud. “Shit fucking hell,” he gasped, and she turned to look, worrying like the seven hells that he’d cut himself or something. But no. He was just looking at his phone.

He looked up at her. “You’ve got… a _shitton_ of followers, Sansa.”

“Oh gods,” she curled up in the chair and hid. “I asked you not to look at that when I was in the room.”

“Yeah, she’s got a lot of admirers,” Arya said. “A wide range too. Young girls, old men… well, that’s pretty much it.”

“Oh shut the hell up, Arya,” Sansa groused.

“I’m _kidding_ ,” Arya said. “You’ve done very well for yourself. I’m not embarrassed to call you my sister anymore.”

“Praise the seven,” Sansa deadpanned.

“That is fucking impressive,” Theon said. “Especially for someone who’s afraid of her own balcony.”

Sansa froze and Arya nearly dropped the controller in her hand. Her eyes widened and Sansa reached over to pinch her thigh. “Shut it,” she hissed.

“OI!” Arya exclaimed, rubbing the spot.

“It’s not the time,” Sansa murmured.

“Not the time? What do you mean? He—“

“Would take it _badly_. Drop it,” she insisted.

Arya sighed. “Fine.”

Gendry cracked open one eye to peer at them. “You guys having one of your conversations where you never finish a sentence and yet somehow know exactly what the other is saying?”

“Yes, and I’d thank you to kindly stop eavesdropping,” Arya countered.

“I’m pinned beneath you. Since when is that the eaves?” Gendry protested.

“I’m going to go make the salad,” Sansa said suddenly, rising to her feet.

“Yeah, better go do that. Not sure who would tear the lettuce if you didn’t,” Arya jibed.

Sansa rolled her eyes.“I don’t see you jumping to help with dinner,” she shot back. Puling the lettuce out of the fridge, she placed it on the counter before digging the salad spinner out of the cabinet and tearing the bits of lettuce into it.

“No, because I need to beat your time for Rainbow Road so your Switch remembers who its Mommy really is.”

“Gods,” Sansa groaned, tearing more lettuce into the bowl of the spinner. She brought it all over to the sink and took out the strainer part and gave it a rinse under the faucet, placing it back in the base and clipping the lid in place so she could spin it all and dry it.

It only took a few minutes before she was dumping it into the wooden salad bowl.

Then, she began rinsing and slicing up cucumbers and sweet peppers.

“You’re going to slice up all three of those?” asked Theon. “Seems a lot of peppers.”

“Just the two,” she replied, going over to wash them as well.

“Still too much.”

“Oi! Just because I am allowing you to cook doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me!” she protested.

Theon chuckled.

“Besides, not all of this will make it into the salad, watch…” She tilted her head in the direction of the sofa, where Gendry had already shaken himself free of Arya and begun wandering into the kitchen.

He set himself up at the counter nearest Sansa, nodding to Theon. “You got a car?”

“I might have. Depends on if my sister actually put it in storage or not.”

“What kind?” Gendry asked, reaching over and popping a piece of the sliced bell pepper into his mouth. He followed with another one while Theon answered his question.

“Nothing special, just something I was going to fix up and never got around to it.”

She shot Theon a knowing look when Gendry looked away and he mouthed “Oh…”

Smirking, she finished slicing up the vegetables and tossed the salad while Gendry and Theon talked about his car.

Once dinner was on the table, Arya finally put down the Switch controller and came over to sit at the table. When the salad bowl came around, she served herself a pile of its contents. “Thank you for this, Sansa. Bloody hell, Theon, can this girl tear some lettuce.”

Sansa sighed. “I love you, Arya.”

“Ew, why?”

“Because it makes you shut up, that’s why.”

“Ughhhhh I hate you.”

“I know.”

Theon chuckled and placed a pair of tongs near the chicken. “One of those is for Sandor, apparently.”

“Oh, Sandor hates him, does he?” Arya asked, poking each chicken breast with the pointy end of the tongs before selecting one.

“How’d you know?”

“Sandor hates _all_ of Sansa’s boyfriends,” Arya explained, looking very proud of herself to have been able to share that tidbit of information.

Gendry snorted. “He’s been right about them, hasn’t he?”

“Not sure if he’s been right, or if Sansa’s just bad at picking blokes,” Arya continued.

“Sandor is just looking out for me,” Sansa said, her voice sounding high and tinny even to her ears. “It has nothing to do with them being my boyfriends.” She glanced over at Theon. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, spearing a piece of his chicken and taking a bite.

“Well if you bring him chicken, that’s a start,” Arya said. “Sandor loves chicken.”

“Not sure if Sandor’s gonna get any of this chicken,” Gendry said between bites. “Arya… it’s not dry. Did you know chicken wasn’t dry?”

Sansa snorted, grabbing her napkin to cover up her very obvious laughter.

Arya huffed. “Look, I’m no Suzy Homemaker, excuse me if my chicken’s dry.”

“And bland,” Gendry added. “I didn’t know it could taste of anything other than chicken.”

“You’re aiming to sleep on the couch tonight, mate?” Theon asked with a laugh.

“He’s aiming to come here and cuddle up with you,” Arya countered.

“I dunno if he’d like that, I’m a blanket hog,” Theon replied.

“So’s Arya, wouldn’t be any different,” Sansa muttered under her breath.

“Hey. HEY. Stay outta this,” Arya exclaimed. “Your chicken’s worse than mine.”

“My chicken isn’t under scrutiny here.” Sansa took a dainty bite of her own. “And if you eat Sandor’s chicken, Gendry, I’m going to feed you to him, so you won’t have to worry about shivering to death with Theon.”

Gendry sputtered out an argument, but Sansa wasn’t paying attention anymore. She looked across the table, catching Theon’s gaze. He smiled, crooked and snarky, and for a second, he looked the way he had when they were younger. Like they were just at the dinner table at home because he was spending the night with Robb yet again. And he was laughing at something sarcastic she’d said to Arya or her mother. In the moments before her mother put a stop to it, of course.

Sansa liked that smile.

She could definitely get used to seeing more of it.


	3. Theon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eeeee here's Chapter 3!!!
> 
> As always, I want to thank treaddelicately for being my awesome beta and letting me scream in her DMs about this entire dinner thing. 
> 
> Idk why I always have to have these family dinners in fics, but I do. Modern Starkling Family dinners are my 'everyone lives in Avengers Tower' for this fandom and here's one for your perusal. No Arya or Robb in this chapter, but I'm going to have to remedy that ASAP. Please enjoy Rickon, Bran, and Ned. (You can enjoy Catelyn if you want, but IDK why you'd want to, lol)

_You’ll find it funny to know that there’s a certain shade that always makes me think of you. It’s dark teal or turquoise._

* * *

The shutter sound of her camera phone pierced the silence once more.

As did the disappointed grumble when she looked at the photo.

Theon looked over in her direction. She was currently hunched down in front of a plant trying to get a decent selfie taken. She’d started with a tripod for her phone and discarded that about four pictures in.

He shouldn’t be watching her try and snap photos of herself, but he also didn’t have anything better to do since he’d already called Robb. Being sober and unemployed meant he didn’t really have anything to fill his hours. He needed a hobby.

Her eyes cut over in his direction, to where he was laying on the sofa, his phone in hand as he scrolled through a news site without reading it. “Stop doing that,” she hissed.

He raised his eyebrows. “Stop doing what?”

“Looking at me.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” she retorted. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No… I just… I can’t get a good shot. Am I even attractive? You wouldn’t know to look at these photos…” She jabbed her screen, clearly deleting the lot of them.

She was. Attractive. But he wasn’t completely sure her question wasn’t rhetorical, so he didn’t say that aloud.

Now that he saw the amount of work she put into her social media presence, he had a deeper appreciation for what eventually showed up on her feed.

And on her Youtube channel.

His cheeks blazed hot when he thought about just how many of her videos he’d watched. How he’d stayed up late to watch in the darkness of her spare room, which reminded him… he needed to pick up some headphones the next time they went to the shops so he didn’t have to keep the volume down so low.

He’d spent his evenings watching her give makeup tutorials and smile and use a voice that she certainly didn’t when she spoke to people in her everyday life.

It wasn’t his usual Youtube fare, beauty vlogging. But once he’d watched one of her more recent videos, he had to watch them all. Not because of the content or anything.

But also not because he didn’t find her interesting, because he certainly did. However, what caught his eye wasn’t the flawless smokey-eye or the wings on her eyeliner (even though he, unfortunately, knew how to do both just from watching her demonstrate), no, what caught his eye was the photo in the background of all her videos.

Well, most of her videos.

The ones she did at her vanity in her bedroom. She had a little alcove set up in there, from what he could tell in the two times he’d seen her bedroom, where she shot her videos. There was a place for her phone to sit and a lighted mirror that cast a lovely golden glow on her face.

But that wasn’t the important thing here. The important thing was the background. She had a parlor palm and a framed photograph. The photograph was the thing that caught his attention in the very first video.

A sandy beach, a bit of pink sea glass embedded in the sand as the waves swirled around it.

He’d taken it one weekend when he’d gone with his sister to Pyke to look at a houseboat before she’d purchased the one she currently had.

Theon was on break from his first year in college at the time, and when he’d spotted the glass in the sand, all soft and smooth amid the grainy sand and rushing water… it made him think of Sansa.

Plus, it was pink. She’d been into pink in a real way and it was difficult not to notice.

He’d developed the photo and his photography professor had adored it. Tried to get him to enter it into competitions, but he hadn’t taken the bait. He’d insisted he hadn’t taken the photo for that reason. He’d taken it for his best mate’s sister’s sixteenth birthday.

He framed it and wrapped it up, dropping it on the pile of gifts when he swung by to pick up Robb on the day of her party.

He’d even made his friend wait around while she opened her gifts. Only to see her rip the paper off without even looking who’d given it to her. She looked at the photo, smirked a little. Said it was ‘pretty’ and asked who it was from.

Theon hadn’t stuck around after that.

So he was surprised as hell to see it hanging on her wall in every single one of her videos.

A place of prominence, almost, and while it made his chest hurt a little to see it every time, he had to know if it was in all of them or not.

It was in all of them. At least, as far as he knew.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to leave?” he asked, sitting up on the sofa. “I can go in the other room if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“No…” she sighed. “You’re fine where you are.”

She raised the camera over her head again and snapped another picture. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and deleted it, letting the phone fall in her lap as she stared angrily at the carpet.

He sat up and slid his own phone down into his pocket. “Give it here,” he said, holding out his hand.

“What? No… you don’t have to… it’s always like this. I’m really picky about how I look in pictures and—“

“I’m well aware of how picky you are. But you’re holding it all wrong and the angle’s not going to do anyone any favours, so just let me do it.” He held his hand out and she dropped her phone into it.

“Stand up,” he instructed. “You’re tall, you should stand up.” He looked around her apartment, looking for an appropriate background. “You want the plant in the background?”

“Yeah…”

“It should be up here, then…” he shoved her phone in his other pocket and went to drag the coffee table over to the blank wall. He hoisted the plant onto the surface and took a step back, framing it with his thumbs and forefingers and nodding, motioned for her to come and stand in front of it.

He walked over to her medusa lamp and dragged it as close as he could without unplugging it, tilting each of the lights towards her, and then going back to turn on the lights in the kitchen as well.

“Okay, that should…” he squinted and then reached for her phone, holding it out for her to unlock. “Alright, how do you want to—“

“I don’t smile.”

“I know you don’t,” he retorted. “I wasn’t going to tell you to. How do you want to stand, _darling_?” He smirked a little there at the end.

She cracked a little smile at that. “Oh, I dunno, I thought I could—“

“Do you mind if I make a few suggestions?”

“ _Please_. I could use the help.”

“Stand up straight and tilt your chin.”

She squared her shoulders but didn’t move her chin.

“Your chin. Lift your chin. Sansa…” She raised her eyebrows in reply. “Sans, your chin.” She still wasn’t moving, so Theon tried another approach. “Point to your chin.” She did, raising her finger to touch the end of it. “Good, now lift it.” Nothing. “No. Your chin…”

He sighed and moved closer, reaching out to move her hand and hook his fingers under her chin, tilting it up so her face was bathed in the light. “Like that.”

“Sorry,” she laughed nervously. “I have a disconnect… I’m really bad at posing for photos… it’s why I don’t want to model…”

He smiled a bit. “You’re doing fine.”

“I mean, I also don’t want to model because I’m not trying to break into that market. I want to design my own things, not model someone else’s…”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, but… I think you’re likely doing what you need to do… if you’re getting your stuff showcased in that boutique and all…”

She smiled then. He really wished she wanted to smile in her photos because she was very lovely when she did.

“What should I do with my eyes?”

“Just hold there and try not to cross them, okay?”

She giggled just as he snapped the picture and just as he thought, she looked lovely. But she hadn’t wanted a smiling picture, so.

“Relax your jaw, and look at the camera…”

She did and he snapped another one. It was alright, but she’d lowered her chin again, so he stepped forward, cupping it in one hand. “You keep dropping…”

“Sorry,” she whispered. He could smell her shampoo from here. The one he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since he’d taken a shower in her bathroom.

“It’s alright… just keep it here…”

“I’ll try…”

He released her and stepped a small distance away, snapped another picture, and looked at the screen. He tilted it towards her to show it and she squealed.

“How’d you get that in three shots? Oh, my gods, that’s perfect!”

He had any number of lines at the ready to answer that question, but he couldn’t make his mouth form any of them.

_It’s easy when your subject is perfect._

_The first two weren’t bad either._

_You’re beautiful, stop second-guessing yourself._

He was saved by her phone ringing in her hand.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Her smile fell as she saw who was calling. “It’s my mum. See you in a few days.” She rolled her eyes and answered. “Hello?”

She brushed by him, taking the scent of her hair with her and suitably breaking the spell he’d been under.

Theon didn’t know what had come over him, but he did know he couldn’t let that happen again.

She was letting him stay here as a favour and he couldn’t walk around like a lech ogling her up and down and putting his hands on her like that. He couldn’t help her with her photos anymore and that was that.

He hoisted the plant off the coffee table and set to righting the furniture.

Sansa was pacing around her kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside, getting out a bottle of water, and then leaving it on the counter. She strolled around the kitchen island and back out to the living room.

She pressed mute on her phone and turned to him. “Can I get you to do my photos from now on? I know it’s probably a big imposition, but Theon, I look amazing.”

“Sure,” he heard himself saying. “I’ve got nothing better to do, so why not?”

Seriously, _fuck_ him. He was always out to get himself, that’s why he was where he was. He lived life on the edge of self-destruction and this was no different.

What was the term? Biting the hand that feeds you?

Seemed apt.

Sansa seemed pleased by his response because she reached out and squeezed his arm before unmuting the phone. ‘Tonight, though?” A pause. “No, I’m not busy…. Is dad with you?” Pause. “Can I speak with him before you hang up?” Another pause. “Thanks.”

She cut her gaze to Theon and gave him an exasperated look. “Hey, Dad!” She turned and walked into her room after that, and finally gave Theon the reprieve from her presence that he both craved and didn’t want at the same time.

He scooted the potted plant back to its original position and wondered if he could feasibly disappear into his room for the rest of the day. Or even go for a walk to clear his head.

A walk sounded lovely, and he had key cards to get back in. Perhaps he could go down to the shops on his own for the headphones. It’d be a great way to pass the time.

Should he tell Sansa where he was going? Probably. It’d be the polite thing to do.

She was walking out of her bedroom at that moment, but before he could bring up his walk idea, she began speaking again.

“That was Mum,” she sighed in exasperation, and he picked up from her tone that he was likely supposed to be supportive here. Like she would be if he had to talk to his dad again.

Or to her mum. Catelyn Stark wasn’t a pleasant person. How Sansa and Robb put up with her was beyond him. Or Rickon and Bran for that matter, they still had to live at home. Arya had given up and made herself scarce whenever she was around. Ned was alright though. He supposed that was what made Cat palatable. If something happened to Ned, that’s when Cat would become completely unbearable.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I suppose. Bran is looking at where to go for uni, so he and Rickon got a tour of KLU today.”

“Oh? So they’re in town?”

“Yes. They’ve been planning it for a few weeks, apparently, but I just heard about it today. They’re coming here to take me out for dinner.”

“That’s…nice…”

“I suppose. But what if I’d had plans, you know? My mum is classic, she just assumes I’ll have time for her.”

“ _Are_ you busy tonight?” he asked.

She laughed. “No. I mean, I might have done, I could work on some sewing or something, but just because I don’t have hard plans doesn’t mean I have time to drop everything for her.”

“Dinner sounds nice,” he replied.

“I talked to dad. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose.” And he didn’t want to.

Her eyes widened and Theon felt a pull somewhere in his chest. “It wouldn’t be an imposition. Please? Mum will behave herself if Dad’s there. And the boys. And I wouldn’t be alone. I’d ask Arya, but she’d say no, and Robb’s back North so…”

He should plead out. Tell her he wasn’t ready for a big family dinner, but when she looked like that… gods, no wonder Ned could never say no to her. Robb either. It was the same look that had annoyed the shit out of him when they were kids, but now it had the opposite effect.

“If I’m invited, I’ll come along,” he promised.

She grinned and bounced a little. “Thank you. So much. I owe you.”

“You’re literally letting me live in your spare room, you know.”

“With a sewing machine. I’ll get that moved out this weekend, how’s that?”

“Sansa…” he protested. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Theon. You can’t relax in a room like that. I’ll have space if I rearrange my bedroom a bit. There are two closets in there, so I can convert one into a fabric closet, and then I’ll just need a spot for the sewing machine and the dressmaker’s dummy. It’s fine. It’ll add to the aesthetic in there.”

“You honestly don’t have to—“

“I want you to feel comfortable here. And part of that is having somewhere to go hide. I enjoy a good hide every now and then. You won’t be able to do that with my belongings in that room.”

She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t argue with the logic.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“You are more than welcome. Thank _you_ for being so wonderful and coming along like a calf to the slaughter tonight.”

“I thought you said your Mum would be on her best behavior.”

“Yeah, I did. But you know her best isn’t all that great.”

“True,” he nodded.

He was fully aware of that fact.

* * *

The Starks arrived around seven in the evening, calling from downstairs because they had reservations at seven-thirty. Apparently, they’d only come in that far so Rickon could use the restroom in the lobby.

Theon had changed into the only pair of trousers he owned that weren’t made from denim, and the only shirt that wasn’t a t-shirt. Of course, he’d gotten his old size, so it still looked somewhat big on him, but both items were pressed and clean and Sansa had told him he looked fine, so he was inclined to believe her.

At least until he exited the elevator with her and they spotted the Starks in the lobby.

Cat looked regal as always. Ned looked nervous and out of place in the ritzy lobby, Bran was on his phone, and Rickon was trying to kick over a gold trash can without appearing as if he was obviously trying to kick it over.

The last three didn’t give Theon any feeling other than a bit of warmth and recognition after so long, but Cat? Cat made his insides go cold when her eyes glanced over him.

“Sans!” Rickon yelped, running over to hug his sister. Ned was next, wrapping her up in a hug that looked very nice indeed.

Theon got to find out first hand when he turned to him and hugged him the same way. “Good to see you, Theon,” Ned said.

Cat hugged Sansa with one arm and smiled warmly at her, turning her gaze over to Theon. “You look well, Theon.”

Considering that the last time he’d seen Ms. Stark had been right before he’d been arrested when Robb had convinced her to let Theon sleep off his high in her guest room, he supposed he did look well. And since Catelyn Stark didn’t hand out compliments to just anyone, he had to assume that’s what she meant.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied stiffly. “So do you.”

“ _I_ think he looks healthy,” Sansa said, cutting her gaze over to him and then back to her mother.

“Well, he does look better than he _did_ ,” Cat said with a finality that burned even though he’d been expecting it.

As it turned out, Bran and Rickon wanted to ride with Sansa instead of Ned and Cat, and Theon couldn’t blame them. He took a seat in the back while Rickon and Bran fought for custody of the coveted ‘shotgun’ position.

Rickon won, so Bran slumped into the back with Theon as Sansa started the car.

The watchmen had just changed and Sansa gave Sandor a grin as they passed through. He didn’t speak much, just nodded in her direction, which gave Theon the idea that he wasn’t comfortable around Sansa’s family either. The feeling was mutual.

The ride to the restaurant was louder than their usual drives were. Rickon was trying to tell Sansa about how cool the campus at KL was, and Bran was loudly undermining every single thing he said in the back seat. It was clear Bran wasn’t impressed with the campus.

“Mum only wants me to go here so Sansa can keep an eye on me,” he groused.

“Where do you want to go?” Theon asked.

Bran shrugged. “I dunno. I’d like to not go to university at all. I sort of want to learn computer programming.”

“Thought you already did that,” Theon mused.

“I do, but not for money. I want to make money at it,” He chuckled.

“They have a programming curriculum at KL, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Bran said with a sigh. “It’s just not as good as others.”

Rickon, on the other hand, was in love with their lacrosse pitch, and nothing could change his mind.

“It’s the biggest one I’ve ever _seen_ ,” he insisted, which only made Bran roll his eyes.

They arrived at the restaurant a few moments later, pulling up to the valet and making Theon think that he might not have dressed appropriately for the evening. Sansa shot him a smile as they climbed out of the car. “Relax,” she whispered. “It looks fancy, but they don’t have a dress code. It’s why Mum brings the boys along.”

That made sense.

The four of them walked up to wait for Ned and Cat to arrive, which they did after a few moments. They left their car with the valet, and they all headed inside.

The hostess served them quickly, and Rickon took the proffered extra chair that they had to bring to accommodate one extra person. Theon went to take it, but Sansa motioned to the chair beside her instead.

They made their drink orders and as soon as their server left, Cat started talking.

“Have you spoken with Margaery?” she asked, peering down at the menu.

Sansa answered, even though it wasn’t clear who she was talking to at first.

“Yes. I speak with her almost every day in one way or another.”

“Did she tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Tell you that she forbade me from being there when my grandchild is born.”

“Oy, mum,” Bran groaned.

“Don’t use that word at the dinner table, Bran.”

He made a face. “What word? Oy?”

Cat didn’t answer, so he rolled his eyes and looked back at his menu.

“She forbade you?” Sansa asked, sounding in disbelief. “Surely…”

“She just said she didn’t want anyone extra in the delivery room while she’s in labour,” Ned explained.

“Oh,” Sansa said, laughing a bit. “Well, that’s her prerogative, isn’t it? Given the nature of that sort of thing.”

“She said she only wants _Robb_ in there,” Cat said as if it was a huge scandal or something.

“That makes sense, Mum. He’s the one who put it there, he should watch it come out,” Sansa replied bluntly.

Rickon snickered and Cat shot him a look.

“Don’t be crass, Sansa.”

“You’re the one who brought up the subject of childbirth.”

“No, I brought up the subject of being rejected by my own family! Margaery only wants Robb there? What does he know? Nothing, that’s what. He’s never given birth. I assumed since _her_ mother wouldn’t be in attendance that she’d at least want me there.”

Sansa sighed. “Mum, you can’t—“

“It’s my first grandchild, where else should I be? At home? Like a simpleton?” Cat shook her head as if she were greatly put upon indeed.

Luckily, at that point, the server had returned to take their food orders.

Theon ordered pasta, which seemed to be a mid-ranged item on the menu, and Sansa ordered a salad, to which her mother tutted softly and then the rest of them made their orders.

“What was that for?” Sansa asked.

“You’re only eating a salad?” Cat asked.

“It looked good,” Sansa said flatly.

“It’s just that it’s dinner, you could have gotten something else.”

“I wanted the salad,” she confirmed.

“I know, but—“

“Mum, did you see? They have a new sommelier,” Bran said, tilting his head back towards the bar. “Maybe they can find you a glass of wine that you actually like.”

“I doubt it,” Cat chuckled as she stood and walked over to the bar to speak with him.

Sansa exhaled and shot Bran a grateful look. He shot her a smile and reached for a piece of bread.

By the time Cat came back with a glass of white wine, the food had been served and everyone was digging in.

“I think this sommelier might not be as horrible as the last one,” Cat said, mostly to herself, but Theon was only two bites into his plate and he almost wished for a glass of it to take the edge off Cat.

But he wasn’t ever really a drinker, and he didn’t figure he needed a new vice anyway.

“Ugh,” she groaned when she cut into her chicken. “This is most assuredly overcooked.” She raised her hand and summoned the server, who took the chicken back with a smile, and then everyone put their forks down while they waited for Cat’s meal to be brought back out again.

“Mum, why do you even come here if you only complain about everything?” Bran asked.

Sansa inhaled sharply, but her mother was already starting in on why and how, and then Rickon chimed in, chirping from his seat safely down by Ned, “So Theon, how was jail?”

Bran groaned, reaching over to swat his brother’s shoulder. “He wasn’t in jail, dingus.”

“Yeah, but wasn’t he arrested?”

There was a long silence and then Sansa spoke.

“He didn’t go to jail. And even if he did, he’s not there now. He’s here. Which means he deserves to be here, and that’s the end of it, _Rickon_.” Of course, she wasn’t looking at Rickon when she said it. She was looking at Cat because the false information was most likely from her.

Theon cleared his throat. “To answer your question to the best of my ability, _rehab_ was very quiet.”

He cut his gaze over to Sansa, catching and holding it as she took a sip from her water glass.

Ned started talking then.

“So Theon, are you going to pick up photography again? I remember you used to do rather well at that sort of thing, didn’t you?”

Theon smiled. “I’m out of practice. But maybe.”

“He’s still got it,” Sansa said. “He took some pictures for my Instagram today.”

“Oh, did he?” Cat asked, taking another sip of her wine. “What sort of post? I know some of your sponsored ones need a certain kind of photo.”

“Only the modeling jobs require that,” she said quietly. “And I don’t take the modeling jobs. You know that, mum.”

Cat sighed again. “I just don’t understand why not.”

“Because I don’t want to be a spokesmodel.”

“Why on earth not? You’ve got the looks and the following. You could do anything you wanted.”

“I am doing what I want,” Sansa insisted.

Ned turned towards Theon and continued. “Don’t forget that your camera and things are over at Robb’s. I helped him grab all the rest of your belongings from your sister’s boat when you needed it all gone, and I made sure to grab it when I was there.”

Theon smiled. “Thank you, ser. I talked to Robb a few days ago, but didn’t think to ask about that. I’ll have to go up there and pick all of it up at some point.”

“Don’t go anytime soon,” Cat snarked as she cut into her chicken. “Marg is liable to barricade the door to keep everyone out until she goes into labour.”

“Mum,” Sansa groaned. “She’s not even here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you can’t rag on Marg when she’s not even here,” Sansa replied. “It’s not fair and she can’t defend herself.”

“She’d do a much better job than you’ve done, I’m certain.”

Theon shoveled pasta into his mouth in the hopes that if his plate was clear, perhaps it would spur the rest of them into eating as well. He glanced over at Sansa and saw her close her eyes in a moment of frustration before replying.

“How’ve I done, then, Mum?”

“You can’t give me a decent answer as to why you’re not picking up these spokesmodel gigs. I simply do not understand why you won’t.”

Sansa sighed. “Mum…”

“I know you say it’s not the road you want to venture down, but you’re pretty and it’s good money, Sansa.”

“You thought Instagram was a shite endeavor when I first started and now you’re a bloody expert,” Sansa grumbled under her breath.

“Don’t swear at me. I’m a good mother, after I realized what it was becoming for you, I started to research. I only want the best things for you, darling.”

Sansa chuckled. “Well, after today, Theon can attest to me being a terrible model. I’m awful at posing myself and I have no natural poise to speak of.”

“Nonsense. You’ve plenty of poise and grace. It’s all those dance classes you took when you were younger. I knew those would pay off.”

“Mum, no offense, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve worked the design angle. I always have been. It’d look weird if I started modeling all of a sudden now.”

“I just think you could be doing so much _more_ , Sansa.”

Theon swallowed hard. She’d stuck up for him, and he could bloody well return the favour. Especially when it took no thought on his part to do so.

“Actually, I think she makes a lovely model, but she’s much too strong-willed to be used in that way. She’s making a smart decision, doing what she’s doing. Most of her following is comprised of fashion vloggers, not beauty vloggers. Even though she does do the occasional beauty vlog on her Youtube channel, most of the content is upcycling clothes and how to do one’s own alterations and the like. She’s cultivating a list of contacts that she can use once she wants to venture out more into design. She’s already gotten a local boutique interested in her designs, so…”

“Yes, but it’s Cersei Lannister,” Cat said with a roll of her eyes. “She might seem interested now, but she’ll probably just pull the wool over Sansa’s eyes and steal anything of value she has. You remember what an unbearable… woman she was when Sansa dated her son.”

“Cat,” Ned said sternly. “It’s not prudent to correlate personal decisions to business ones. Especially with Lannisters. They’re horrible romantic partners, wonderful business partners. Everything that younger one touches turns to gold.”

“The little one? What’s his name… Tyrion?” Cat laughed. “He’s banking off his last name.”

“He’s doing it the smart way,” Ned insisted, and from that point on, the conversation took a turn away from Sansa and onto one of Tyrion’s latest endeavors. He’d recently saved a programming company from the brink of bankruptcy, and that was basically all Theon had the patience to listen to, because Sansa was picking at her food beside him.

“You don’t like yours?” he asked. “You want the rest of mine? We could trade.”

She smiled. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied.

“Not just for the food,” she reiterated.

He smiled and twirled some of the pasta around his fork. “Looked like you could use some help.”

“I was floundering.”

“Nah, you’d have pulled yourself out of it,” he said with all the confidence in the world. “But it was quicker to just shut it down. Even though I didn’t manage to do that. It took your father’s subject change…”

“He’s very good at that,” Sansa chuckled and speared a piece of lettuce, stuffing it into her mouth and chewing. “Years of practice.”

Theon chuckled. “Yeah. I remember.”

The rest of the dinner was spent in relative calm, with only a small burst of excitement when Catelyn caught Rickon taking sips from her wine glass when she set it down.

“You are fourteen years old,” she hissed. “You’re going to get us thrown in jail. Do you want to end up in jail? Or worse?”

“It’s a slippery slope, Rickon,” Theon deadpanned. “You start out with the house chardonnay and then before you know it, you’re cooking meth in your outbuilding to pay your dealer.”

“Is that what you did?” Rickon asked, wide-eyed, and Sansa kicked him under the table and swatted Theon.

“Do not encourage him. He’s impossible already.”

Theon grinned. “Nah, never cooked meth, that was way worse than what I was doing.”

“Yeah, if you’re going to steal something, steal something better than white wine from Mum’s glass,” Bran said, rolling his eyes.

“Like what? The whiskey from the liquor cabinet?” Rickon said, raising his eyebrows.

Sansa shut that down quickly. “Yes, let’s keep one-upping each other until we’re all grounded, that’ll show us.”

Ned chuckled and pulled out his card to pay the bill. “Besides. I measure the amount in that bottle, so I know when there’s any missing. If it was a surprising amount, I’d have done something by now.”

Theon had never seen someone go quite as pale as Bran did just then.

Luckily, Cat didn’t seem to notice, she was back to arguing with Ned over how big of a tip to leave because she’d only seen the server once the entire meal.

“Mum, it should be included in the price of the meal for everything they have to do, not just what they do for you,” Sansa sighed. “Go twenty-five percent or bust, Dad.”

Catelyn groused but didn’t openly complain about Sansa’s outburst for once.

On the way out to the parking lot, Rickon tried to finagle a night at Sansa’s flat, but Ned and Cat nipped that in the bud.

“But she’s got that swimming pool with the slide!” Rickon whined.

“There’s a pool at our hotel, and we’re not going to impose on your sister,” Ned said bluntly.

“Especially not when she _already_ has a houseguest,” Cat muttered in reply, side-eyeing Theon. She linked her arm with Sansa while they walked to the car, whispering something in her ear that she’d either tell him in the car or hide from him until he pried it out of her.

He thanked the Drowned God for small favours, like delaying Cat’s realization that he was living at Sansa’s flat until after dinner.

After they’d said their goodbyes, with Sansa promising to contact Arya and tell her to answer her phone, the other Starks got in their vehicle and left Sansa and Theon to climb into hers.

He sat down in the front seat, busying himself with the seat belt until Sansa slammed her door loudly. “You alright?” he asked, knowing full well she wasn’t.

“Mum’s just…” she laughed without any humour. “She’s a lot and I always get morose and homesick until I see her and I remember what it’s like to have her up your arse all the time and I don’t feel so homesick anymore. Do you know what she just asked me?”

“Not in the slightest,” Theon replied.

“She asked me if we were sleeping together. And if I knew what sort of drugs you’d been into, because there are tests that need to be done and—“

“I wasn’t… it wasn’t intravenous…” he said softly.

“Theon…”

“It wasn’t. I snorted most of it… smoked some.”

“Theon…” She reached over and grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t matter to me, you know that. I’m just annoyed that she assumed I was sleeping with you. As if I can’t control myself or something.”

“I don’t think it was a slight to you,” Theon laughed dryly.

“It was. Because you couldn’t hear it, so why would she waste that on me if you couldn’t even hear her?” she asked bitterly. “This is a slight to me because of my shite track record and honestly, I’m angrier that she would lump you in with some of those degenerates anyway.”

“Well, I am a former drug addict. And dealer,” he replied.

“Yes,” she said, looking over at him. “And what of it? That’s not ideal, but you’re a good guy underneath it all. Addiction isn’t a character trait, Theon.”

“It sure as fuck feels like one sometimes.”

She squeezed his hand and it was at that moment that he realized she was still holding it. “Well, it’s not. It’s not you. It’s a sickness. Like cancer or depression or diabetes. It’s not something you can control having and you’re doing well by taking care of yourself.”

He felt something warm spread in his chest when she said that. “Sansa?”

“Hmm?”

“How bad could they possibly be? Your other blokes, I mean.”

She smiled and released his hand, patting the back of it and reaching for her keys. “Bad. And I don’t wish to revisit them, because I’m afraid it reflects rather poorly on me that I was with them at all.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Theon replied.

“You’re a dear. Did you need to stop anywhere on the way home?” Her tone had changed. Into that falsely bright one that she used in her videos.

“Actually, yes… I was wondering if we could stop at the shops so I could grab some headphones?”

“Of course. I’ll stay in the car while you run in if you don’t mind. I need to try and get in touch with Arya.”

“That’s fine,” he said and waited while she pulled out of the restaurant car park and back out onto the road again.

She drove to the same set of shops they usually went to, and he got out and ran inside. He’d likely have to visit an electronics shop to get a decent pair of headphones like he used to have, but he found a pair of noise-canceling ones in stock at this shop, so he decided to get them.

He also bought some chewing gum on a whim and went back out to the car.

As he slid into the passenger seat again, he pulled the gum out of the bag and offered her the first piece.

“Thanks,” she said.

“No problem.”

“Also, really… thank you for speaking up back there with Mum.”

“Again, no problem,” he replied. “I’ll take the heat if it means you can get a moment’s reprieve. I don’t have to live with her.”

“I don’t either, thank the gods.”

Theon grinned.

“Poor Margaery, though. Do you think she has any idea what she’s in for?”

“I think she’ll have more fun at her own labour than she will dealing with Cat after she’s forced to miss it.”

Sansa laughed aloud and backed out of the car park and headed back in the direction of her flat.

When they pulled into the security check, she rolled down her window and waved at Sandor.

“Hey,” he said, leaning out of the kiosk. “Wanted to thank you for that chicken you sent over. That shit was amazing. You gonna be making any more of that?”

Theon smiled. “Anytime, I’m sure I’ll make it again. I’ll send some down to you.”

Sansa grinned as they pulled through and went to park the car. “See?” she said. “I told you that would work.”

“You did,” Theon admitted. “You did.”

Sandor was just about as crusty as they came. If she could have softened his opinion of Theon, then perhaps he should start trusting her judgment on other things as well.

He glanced over at her as she pulled the car into the parking space. She cut the engine and started gathering up her things. “Are you okay?” she asked, jogging him from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding and grabbing his bag. “I’m good.”

“Glad to hear you’re coming around,” she teased and slid out of the car.

She’d been right about a lot of things as of late. Maybe she was right about him as well.

“I’ll get there,” he replied, opening his door and following her into the garage.


	4. Sansa II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll skip the niceties and get straight to the chapter since Ao3 is being wonky for me and this is the third time I've tried to post this.
> 
> Many thanks to treaddelicately for betaing this chapter! 
> 
> Much love!

_Robb told me you mentioned the letters the last time he visited._

_I take it that means you enjoyed them? At least a bit?_

_I certainly hope so. I enjoyed writing the last one._

_-Sansa_

* * *

“See, look… it’s got at least a third more likes than my photos usually get,” Sansa thrust her phone into his face and giggled when he batted it away.

“Your fans are rabid, they’ll like whatever you put out there, so nice try,” he said. “Now let me live, I want to finish cooking without burning myself, please.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and went back to sit at the counter.

“I’m only saying. You should get your camera serviced and start snapping pictures again. You’ve still got it.”

“Never argued with you on that front, Sans,” he replied. He lifted the pan and flipped its contents in a near-perfect saute. Only a few bits of onion and potato missed and fell onto the cooktop.

“I know, but I’m trying to give you one of those kicks you were saying you were missing. You know, the _fear_ , or whatever.”

“You couldn’t be fearsome if you tried, love.” She started to glare in his direction, but instead, she was struck by the way the sun hit the back of his head, making his hair shine like gold in the bright light. He’d always been golden, now that she was remembering back. And he looked lighter than he had in a while. Not since before Ramsay and all that garbage had gone down.

It _had_ been nearly a month since he’d moved in. It only made sense that things would stop weighing on him so heavily.

But just now, he looked almost carefree. He was grinning in that cheeky, crooked way that used to make her heart stop. Especially in high school. Not because she had a crush on him or anything, he was Robb’s friend and she’d known him for _literally_ years and years, for most of her life. Her heart stopped in a different way. It was almost as if that grin could make her forget everything and at that precise moment, there was no past, or present, or anything. It was just him and that smile of his.

It was a great smile.

“Earth to Sansa,” Theon said, snapping his fingers in her direction. “Plate?”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” She leaped up and held out the plate while he slid the contents of the pan onto it. The toast popped and he reached over to pluck out a piece for her.

After that, they sat down to eat and her little flub was forgotten. Not really a flub, it was more of a brain blank. In any case, he didn’t bring it up.

“What time are we leaving again?” Theon asked.

“Around ten? I want to miss the rush hour on the King’s Road,” she replied, spearing a potato with her fork.

“That works. So we’ll be arriving at Robb’s at…”

“Around two?”

“And we won’t have to—“

“See my mother? Thank the gods, no. She’s busy this weekend anyway. There’s some sort of thing she and dad have to go to.”

“What sort of thing?” Theon asked.

Sansa laughed. “I don’t know… I sort of tuned out after she said they wouldn’t be available this weekend. And then she asked if we’d reschedule for next weekend and I said no, and then she had a little fit and then we hung up, so…”

Theon chuckled. “I can’t say I blame you. I tune out whenever Cat speaks as well.”

An unbidden feeling welled up in her chest. A surge of ease, an overflowing of warmth that always seemed to accompany these types of things. Just the things they seemed to agree upon. She had to stifle her reaction, otherwise, she’d beam down at the leftovers of her breakfast.

“You okay?” he asked. “Did you get a burnt bit? I tried not to give you any of those…” He peered at her plate and she shook her head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just… thinking.”

“Oh… well if you need help, let me know. Looked a bit difficult.” He was smirking and acting very much like a smug bastard undeserving of her overflowing warmth.

Not that it made much of a difference.

Sighing, she swatted his shoulder lightly. “If I need help, I’d much rather ask someone well-versed in the art.”

“Oy,” he scoffed, allowing her light swat to move his torso far too much for how little weight she put behind it. It made her snort out a giggle and she covered by quickly stabbing at the remaining bits of her breakfast so she could finish up and wash her plate.

After breakfast, Sansa went to make sure her bag was fully packed and Theon presumably did as well.

While she was checking her makeup drawer and other things, her gaze settled on the photo behind her vanity. She probably looked at it daily, considering where it was. She was almost embarrassed to have it there, considering who had given it to her. And how old it was. But he’d been in here and hadn’t said a word.

Sansa had been so keen to be blase when she unwrapped it, she hadn’t even thought to look up and thank Theon for the very thoughtful gift. Making a big deal about things with him was a surefire way to get made fun of, so she’d done what sixteen-year-old-her had thought was a good idea and barely reacted.

But then she hadn’t been able to find him after the party and then… life happened and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually thanked him for it.

It was likely he didn’t even remember giving it to her, so thanking him now would be silly now anyway.

But she did love it. Truly. It was so beautiful.

He had to pick up that camera again. He just _had_ to.

Once she was certain she hadn’t forgotten anything, she brought her bag out to leave in the hallway nearest to the door.

Theon was washing the dishes, so she went to join him and dry them before putting them away.

“You gonna be okay in that long of a car ride?” she asked.

“Yes?” he said, chuckling a little.

“What?” she asked. It was a valid question.

“The way you asked that it was like I was a child or something,” he laughed. “I’ll be fine in the car, Sansa.’

“Even listening to my horrible music?”

“I’m quite fond of your music, actually,” he said.

“You’re not either,” she said, taking the frying pan and wiping out the center before setting it back on the now cooled burner.

“I am. I hope to hear the full array of choices today. Not just the Divinyls.”

“I was going to play nothing but Divinyls, just for you.”

“Lovely,” he replied, squeezing out the sponge and placing it under the faucet. “Would you like to set off, then?”

“Fine, sounds wonderful,” she replied, going to check and make sure she’d turned everything off. She slipped on a pair of shoes and met him by the door, keys and purse in hand.

He had a bag as well, albeit a much smaller one than what she had.

As she locked up, she felt a thrill of excitement at going on a road trip with him. Perhaps that was just a bit of her younger self bubbling up.

She’d always been so hung up on him approving of her. She didn’t like him, but she wanted his approval. It was a strange sort of existence. Maybe it was tied to Robb. She never had Robb’s approval back then, but with Theon? She could likely obtain his approval if she only was cool enough. Blase enough. Didn’t care about anything enough.

If younger-her had ever known she’d be taking a four-hour road trip with Theon Greyjoy, she’d have stayed up the night before making a playlist.

But instead, she was going to rely on shuffle and hope like hell her music choices didn’t embarrass her.

They climbed into her car and left the car park, pulling out onto the road as the first song in her playlist came up. Hozier. Which was fine. Not embarrassing at all.

She hummed along as they made their way to the King’s Road.

* * *

“You okay?” she asked, reaching to turn down the music.

“Hmm?” he asked, turning to face her. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You stopped singing the wrong lyrics to all my favorite songs…”

Theon chuckled. “Did I?”

“You did,” she agreed.

“A travesty. This song is rife with potentially misheard lyrics.”

“So maybe you tell me what’s bothering you and we go back to before?”

He smiled and shifted in the seat, sitting up a bit straighter. Sansa flicked on cruise control and turned down the volume of the music.

“I just… I haven’t seen Robb since the whole…” He trailed off and she wasn’t looking at him, but she imagined he was gesturing vaguely with his hand.

“Being in rehab?” she supplied for him.

“Yeah…” he said with a shrug. “I mean… the last time I saw him, I was pretty bad off, Sans.”

“You were?” Her brow knit all on its own. She didn’t like to think about him like that.

He nodded. “Rehab’s no walk in the park. It’s still a struggle sometimes.”

Sansa’s frown deepened. He never told her that before. She stole a glance over at him, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, massaging it a bit like it was aching.

She wasn’t sure why she’d never really thought about that before. Why it had never occurred to her that Theon wasn’t cured. He was still an addict and every day reminded him of that.

“I’m sorry, Theon…” she said quietly.

“It’s okay, it’s not you, Sansa. It’s never you.”

“I know, but… I feel bad for not noticing.”

“I don’t talk about it with you. Just to my therapist.”

He did go once a week to see his psychiatrist from the Rest. Maester Luwin, he’d called him on occasion. He was always tense before he went and relaxed when he came back.

“Are you worried seeing Robb will make you feel bad again? Like before?” she asked, mostly grasping for straws because she didn’t know exactly what to say.

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “I feel strange. What with my going to see him when he’s done so much to help and I can’t do much more than get dressed, feed myself, and live in his sister’s spare room.”

“Theon, that’s not fair. You can’t possibly expect to be back to one-hundred percent already.”

“And I know that. I don’t expect that. I just expected to be a bit further along.”

“Can I help?” she asked, hoping she sounded genuine. She glanced over at him, trying to make her face blank, but supportive. She wasn’t sure if she achieved it or not.

Theon smiled and shrugged. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Let me know what you need. I’d like to help.”

“You’re doing so much for me already. And I haven’t done anything for you ever.”

That wasn’t true, Sansa thought to herself. The mental image of that photograph came into her head. The pink sea glass in the sand.

“Theon, you cook for me every day.”

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, chuckling a little. “I cook for you all the time.”

“You do!” she said. “And it’s really good too.”

“Thanks,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. But it’s just the truth, Theon.”

“Sansa…” he said her name softly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She wasn’t sure how she helped, but she got the feeling she had.

* * *

They reached Robb’s house when she’d predicted they would. It seemed leaving later was the trick to a shorter drive. When she pulled into his long driveway, Grey Wind started barking and she felt a pang in her chest for her beloved Lady.

Theon chuckled when he heard the barking. “Grey Wind.”

“Yep,” she said, laughing a little.

“Whatever happened to Lady?” Theon asked. “I meant to ask you, but then, I didn’t.”

Sansa smiled sadly. “She was killed by a car the week before I was going to come up to bring her down to King’s Landing with me.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. She was a sweet dog.”

Sansa snorted. “In what universe? She wasn’t nice to anyone.”

“She was alright to me,” Theon countered. “Sorry your dog wasn’t nice to you, but she was nice to me.”

“Excuse you, Greyjoy. She was perfectly lovely to me.”

He grinned and she put the car in park, noting how jittery he seemed.

“Alright, Theon?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.”

“No problem,” she replied, opening the door and climbing out of the car. She circled around to get her bag from the trunk.

“Oy, shut your yap, Grey Wind, it’s Sansa and Theon!”

Sansa beamed when she heard. Oh, how she’d missed her friend. Margaery appeared, her head peeking over the back gate. “Sansa!” She squealed. “I’d run out to meet you, but I’ve grown rather large as of late.” She opened the back gate and Sansa’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

She certainly was round. Looked about to pop.

“You look positively… _glowing_ , Marg,” Sansa said, grinning widely.

“Stop. Don’t placate me with your tall, thin… long-legged… oh fuck it. Placate me, Sans. Please.”

“Margaery. Stop it. You look beautiful. Gorgeous. A dream,” Sansa gushed, rushing forward to wrap her friend up in her arms. “No matter what my heathen brother’s done to you.”

Margaery hugged her back as best as she could over her belly. She released Sansa and looked over her shoulder at Theon, who was trudging slowly up the driveway.

“Theon,” Margaery said, smiling warmly and holding out her arms for a hug from him as well.

Sansa turned to watch as he embraced Margaery, clearly uncomfortable with both the gesture and the baby bump pressing into him as he did.

“You look so healthy, love…” Marg said, smiling as she looked at him. “Your colour’s good. You gained some weight, didn’t you?”

“I’m doing alright,” he said, clearly embarrassed. He sidled around Margaery, giving her a wide berth as he moved closer to Sansa, reaching for and sliding her bag off her shoulder. “I’ll take this in for you, Sans.”

“I can get it, Theon, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s no trouble. I have it.” He gave her a tight smile and slipped it off her shoulder. “Robb’s inside, Marg?”

“Yeah, he’s in there,” she said, sighing heavily and resting her hand on her belly. They watched him leave and after the door had banged closed behind him, Margaery turned towards Sansa. “So… I have to ask…”

“Margaery,” Sansa said, sighing heavily.

“You know why I’m asking, right?”

“Just because he’s staying with me doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen.”

Margaery pouted, poking her lip out and bouncing in disappointment. “Why not?”

“Because. People aren’t just dolls you can shove together to force them to kiss.”

“Even if they’re perfect together? You’d be _so_ perfect together.”

“You’ve been saying that since you met Theon,” Sansa said with a sigh. “Since before you even knew him at all.”

“And the more I’ve gotten to know him, the more I think he’d be good for you.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t tear each other’s clothes off the second the door closes.”

“And yet you’ve still got him carrying your bags for you.”

“That was a ploy to get you to stop manhandling him and giving him a spit bath,” Sansa said.

“I wouldn’t have spit-bathed him,” Marg said, rolling her eyes. “He looked like he’s showered in the last twenty-four hours. That’s due to him living with you, you know. He was never this clean before.”

“Probably has something to do with his sobriety as well,” Sansa said. “He’s doing really well.”

“Of course he is,” Marg said as if it was a proven fact. “Theon’s amazing. Now if I can just get you to see that.”

“I know that,” Sansa retorted. “Now let me get over here to see this dog before he gives himself a concussion.

She linked her arm through Marg’s and they began walking towards the house. Grey Wind was jumping behind the fence and whimpering.

When they entered the gate, Sansa held her hand out for him to sniff and waited until he rubbed her hand over his head to start properly getting him. “How have you been, boy? Getting ready for that sibling of yours?”

“He has no idea,” Marg said, rolling her eyes. “He’ll be a good big brother, though… won’t you Grey?”

He snuffled in response and ran to fetch a very slobbery stick for Sansa to throw. Which she began to do, watching the dog as he practically leaped into action whenever she tossed it.

“So you see Theon’s amazing?” Margaery asked.

Leave it to her to not forget that little tidbit.

Sansa sighed and tossed the stick. “Yes. He’s amazing. He’s come out of all of this for the better and he’s a dream. You know he took my picture for one of my posts?”

“Oh really?” Marg leaned over on her bent elbow on the top of the fence. “He took your picture?”

“Yes. You remember how good he was at all that.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Margaery replied. “I remember.”

“Okay, well, that post got a _lot_ more engagement than others. I think it was because of his photography skills.”

“And you still have that picture he took for you in the background of all your videos,” Marg added. It was a statement. Possibly. But she phrased it like a question so Sansa asked.

“Was there a question in there?”

“Nope,” Marg said, hitting the p hard. “Nope, just making a statement. If you draw any conclusions, they are yours alone, darling-dear.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. He’s a friend.”

“Who lives with you.”

“He’s only ever been a friend, Marg…”

“I’m only saying. Open your eyes to something more and you might like what you see.”

Sansa wasn’t sure how that made her feel, but she wasn’t about to let Margaery know that. She simply tossed the stick for Grey again.

“Hey!” Robb called from the back door. “I don’t get to see my sister?”

“Grey’s already claimed the next half-hour of her time, I’m afraid,” Marg called.

“Sod that,” Robb jogged out onto the porch and down the steps to grab the stick before Grey got it, He tossed it out farther into the backyard and turned back to face Sansa. He held his hands out to the side and dropped them. “Hullo, Sans.”

She walked forward into a big bear hug from her older brother.

“You’ve been feeding this one, I see,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders and gesturing up to the porch where Theon was currently standing.

“On the contrary,” she replied. “He’s been feeding me. Did you know he could cook?”

“Course I did. He used to make fry ups when we lived together in college. You remember?” That was directed at Theon.

Theon grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I remember you used to eat yourself sick on scrambled eggs, and that’s the single most disgusting fact I had to learn the hard way.”

“Oy, he’s a cook? Think I could convince him to cook for us in the morning?” Marg asked. “Because if I can have a lie-in, I’ll take it. It’s hard enough getting out of bed.”

“If you like,” Theon said, placing his hands on the railing and staring down at his knuckles. “It’s no trouble. I’m cutting Robb off at three eggs, though.”

Sansa caught his gaze and raised her eyebrows quizzically. He’d been sort of nervous before, and now he seemed alright, if a bit cautious. He smiled softly at her and looked down again.

The sun shone through his hair again, this time illuminating him from behind, making him look no less golden than before. Sansa was still staring when Grey Wind knocked into her knees, so she turned her attention to the dog instead. When she looked back up, Theon had retreated into the house.

Soon, Marg was complaining about her back, so Robb and Sansa ended things with Grey and extricated themselves so they could go inside.

Sansa washed her hands ahead of Robb and went to join Theon and Marg in the living room.

Marg had taken up a perch in one of the big armchairs, and so Sansa joined Theon on the sofa.

“I was just telling Theon that I’m going to be ordering in for dinner,” Marg explained. “I don’t feel like standing and cooking, and try as he may, Robb’s food isn’t palatable, so… I hope you lot are alright with pizza.”

“Whatever you want to give us is fine,” Theon said. “If I had known, I could have made dinner as well.”

Marg smiled. “Not to worry, love. I’ve been craving pizza, so it’s fine.”

Robb came out to join them, leaning on the arm of the chair Marg had set herself upon.

“ _So_ ,” Sansa said. “I hear you’re not allowing Mum in the delivery room?”

Margaery sighed and rolled her eyes. “Gods, if I didn’t love your damn brother so much… your mum would be a dealbreaker.”

“Mum’s been…” Robb started to trail off. “She’s been…”

“Impossible,” Marg supplied. “Annoying. Horrendous.”

“ _Difficult_ ,” Robb continued diplomatically.

“Aye, that’s a nice way to put it,” Sansa said. She brought her feet up onto the sofa with her, her toes brushing Theon’s thigh as she did. He jumped when she touched him like she’d given a shock or something, but he settled soon enough. She mouthed a _sorry_ at him, but he waved it off.

“I gathered as much the last I saw her,” Sansa said, going back to the previous conversation. “We went out to dinner with them when they were down in King’s Landing to take Bran on a tour of KLU, and she was grousing about not being allowed in the delivery room.”

“Your mum’s not going to see beneath my gown while I’m birthing a child,” Marg said with finality. “I barely want Robb to see it.”

“Wait, you said _we_ ,” Robb said. “Who’s _we_?”

“Oh, Theon and I,” she said, gesturing to include him. “He was a very helpful buffer.”

“Theon?” Robb said, sounding surprised. “Wow, I didn’t know you and Theon were a _we_.”

“We’re not,” they both said in unison, realizing of course, how much of a ‘we’ this apparently made them.

Marg smirked a bit and Sansa rolled her eyes. “He did it as a favour to me, and can I just say, he was brilliant, so it worked a treat.”

“I think Cat just really wants what’s best for her children,” Theon said slowly. And she’s rather pushy so she comes off as a bit of a…” he paused.

“Bitch,” Margaery supplied, and they all laughed at that.

“I mean, if the word fits,” Theon said under his breath.

“So how’s everything at Sansa’s?” Robb asked. “She drove you crazy with the forty selfies she has to take before she’s deemed it perfect enough for Instagram?”

Theon chuckled and Sansa shot her brother the evil eye. “No, she’s a great roommate, actually. She scarcely makes a sound, and she’s never tromping in with a date at three in the morning or snogging against my bedroom door.”

He said with the implication that someone in the room would understand what he meant, and since Sansa didn’t, she had to assume it was meant for Robb.

“Hey,” both Robb and Margaery objected. “We were young,” Marg insisted.

“Young and in love,” Robb replied, turning to press his lips against her shoulder. “How was I supposed to say no to a face like that?”

Theon shrugged, a smug look on his face. “I dunno. Maybe don’t snog against my door, but I’m not going to tell you what to do.”

“Okay, okay, okay, so…” Robb began, pointing his finger at Sansa. She was now getting dragged in because he had no adequate defense. What a skilled lawyer he was. “What about the balcony window? Does Sansa still keep the quilts tacked up over it?”

Sansa scoffed loudly. “Oy! Of course not! I have blinds now. Nice _vertical_ blinds. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? Also, don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, Counselor.”

Robb sniffed. “Well, I sort of thought that maybe with…” he trailed off and gestured vaguely at Theon. “There, you might have reverted back to your old ways.”

Sansa froze, staring wide-eyed and wondering if there was a way to kill her brother with only her eyes. If there was ever a time to shoot death lasers from her pupils, it was now. She finally moved, inhaling first and shaking her head silently.

Robb seemed to catch the meaning. Or he did when Marg slapped her hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dummy,” she hissed, which only prompted him to pry her hand from his mouth.

“What? I didn’t use names!”

Theon had a frozen look on his face. One that gave him the appearance of trying to complete a long division equation with remainders in his head.

Sansa felt all the blood drain from her face as she quickly rose. “I need to use the loo,” she announced, shooting Marg a look that her friend seemed to understand. She hated to leave her there with the stupidity that Robb had unleashed, but she needed a moment to collect her thoughts.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against the vanity, gazing into the mirror at her wide eyes.

It had happened years ago. It wasn’t a new development or anything, but it wasn’t as if Theon needed reminding of it _now_. And seven hells, it wasn’t as if Sansa thought about it regularly. Or at all.

The reason for her unfortunate fear of heights hadn’t reared its ugly head more than a handful of times since Theon had been staying with her, because the reason for the fear wasn’t something she dwelled on. It wasn’t something she’d _ever_ dwelled on, but it had been something she’d confided to her brother time and again.

It had happened years ago, after all. When they were all children.

And it hadn’t recurred, and Theon had seemed appropriately chastised by his own behaviour at the time, so it wasn’t something Sansa felt was worth revisiting.

It was almost embarrassing to think about it now.

They’d been young. Sansa was eight years old at the time. She’d been angry that Robb and Theon ignored her, and also annoyed that Theon had taken her only best friend away from her. So she’d been a bit obnoxious, sure. It was before she and Arya were close at all. Arya was only five at the time, and Sansa preferred playing with Robb. And they had done for quite a while before he met Theon.

And to top it off, Robb and Theon dared to build a tree fort in the forest behind the house and tack up a ‘no girls allowed’ sign. So of course, Sansa _had_ to be included. It was unfair of them not to include her.

It was worth noting that this incident came fast on the heels of another one where Sansa had stomped Theon’s bare feet with her tap shoes and caused him to lose a toenail. He’d been making fun of her and she’d had enough, so she clomped over and stomped his feet until he’d started crying and had gone to hide.

So she had a comeuppance due to her, some might say.

But when she’d chased Theon through the woods, grabbing hold of the rope ladder directly after him, scaling the side of the tree to get to the opening in the fort, she wasn’t expecting for that comeuppance to happen so swiftly.

“Can’t you read?” he’d hissed, gripping the rope in her hands and shaking it.

Her teeth rattled in her mouth as she clung stubbornly to the rope. “I can’t read _your_ handwriting, are you sure it’s in Common?” she jeered.

His eyes narrowed and the second she let go of the rope to grab at the edge of the opening in the floor of the fort, she saw the idea form in his head. She saw the light bulb moment as it happened.

He smirked and gripped her hands, prying them off and holding her still for a split second before letting her fall, Lion King style, backwards to the ground. The lasting memory from that day that seemed to torment her in the form of a fear of heights now was the view of him and Robb in the opening in the floor watching her as she fell back.

She saw the terror in his eyes as she fell, her arms outstretched, and in the way he leaped down to check on her when her back and head hit the ground.

The fall knocked the wind out of her, so as she gasped for breath and clawed the air, Robb’s hands yanked her up into a sitting position and Theon was already apologising.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Sansa, please don’t tell on me… Sansa… please… Sansa…”

She hadn’t told on him. Not for his sake. For Robb’s. Because her brother wanted to keep his friend. And Cat would have certainly forbidden it. Sansa didn’t want to be _that_ sister.

But she never did try to play with them again.

Certainly not in the tree fort.

Shaking herself out of the memory, she ran the water and washed her hands for lack of something better to do. She dried them off and ducked out of the bathroom, returning to the living room where Marg had changed the topic to something a bit more friendly, pizza toppings.

Sansa was happy to weigh in on the argument of whether or not pineapple was an appropriate topping or not.

It was.

Pineapple on pizza was something she and Theon agreed on, but Robb and Margaery certainly didn’t.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in relatively good humour, between Robb regaling them of stories of several of his nameless clients that Sansa was trying to guess the identity of for the entire time he was speaking and Margaery swatting him for giving too much away.

The pizza was delivered around supper time, and they ate it around the kitchen island and cleaned it up as quickly. A bacon and pineapple pizza was included but was given a wide berth by Robb and Margaery.

After cleaning everything up, they went back into the living room where Margaery suggested they watch a film.

Sansa begged a few minutes to get ready for bed. She went to get changed into some comfortable pyjama pants and a tank top and began the long process of removing her makeup and washing her face. After she’d done that and gotten changed, she went back out into the living room, half-expecting them to have already started the movie without her.

But they hadn’t. They’d waited.

She scooted onto the sofa beside Theon, but with a bit of space between them, which suited her just fine, she could tug the soft throw blanket off the back and wrap it around herself.

“Ugh, the creature stirs,” Robb groaned, tossing a pillow in her direction.

Sighing heavily, she tossed it back with a bit more force than he’d given it. “Have I told you that you’re the worst? Because you fucking are.”

He hissed as if she’d struck him. “Gods, Sansa. I say one thing and you annihilate me? Where’s your humanity?”

“I washed it off with my mascara,” she muttered under her breath, causing Theon to chuckle.

“Oh, that’s funny, is it?” Robb scoffed.

“You’re the one who made fun of her. I can laugh,” Theon reminded him.

“Oh come off it. You’re usually on my side with these things. You can’t honestly look at her without all the goop and shapeshifting aids and tell me she looks the same person at all.”

Margaery swatted Robb. “Oy. Your loving wife uses some of those same shapeshifting aids.”

“I know, darling, but I can’t make fun of you, nor would I want to. But, I can make fun of Sansa…” He whined and Sansa rolled her eyes. “No, but look, mate. Look and tell me—“

She felt Theon’s eyes wander down to where she was seated and felt her face heat up for a moment. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her without makeup. Or that she cared. She made makeup tutorials all the time with her face bare in the beginning.

She didn’t care. Her brother was just being a jerk. He had to get it all in during short visits now since they didn’t live together, and if he said it to Arya, she’d punch him.

“No, I… I honestly don’t see a difference,” Theon began, which made Sansa frown because she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.

Apparently, Robb wasn’t sure either because he guffawed out loud. “Ouch, blimey… that was harsh, Theon!”

Theon’s mouth fell open and closed again his brow knitting. “I didn’t… no, I didn’t mean it like that…” he turned to face her. “I didn’t mean it like that, Sansa.”

It was almost comical. Her brother acting like a braying ass and Theon trying to apologise for something she was certain wasn’t a slight, to begin with.

“I know,” she said, reaching for and squeezing his fingertips. “Don’t worry yourself. I understood.”

“Because I think you’re pretty all the time,” he said. “Whether you’re…” he gestured vaguely. “Or not. It doesn’t matter? You look… happy is a good look for you, I—“

“Theon,” she hushed him. “I know.”

“You know? Even with...” he tilted his head towards Robb, who was currently being distracted by Margaery waving a Blu-ray case in his face, off the topic of Theon’s supposed slight.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “He says all that, but if you’d agreed with him, he’d have argued with you. He’s…” She peered over at him. “An idiot, but he’s my brother. And I know where the skeletons are buried. Don’t worry about me.”

Theon’s mouth switched a little. She supposed it could be described as a smirk, but there was nothing mischievous about it.

Robb was arguing with Margaery, and then she gave him that look she had. The one that could probably get Sansa to give her whatever it was she wanted, so she bloody well knew Robb didn’t stand a chance.

“Dirty Dancing?” he offered, sounding not at all enthused about this particular choice, but it didn’t seem to matter.

Sansa shrugged. “That’s fine with me.”

Theon didn’t answer, he was still looking at her.

“What about you, Theon?” Robb asked. “Do you have any requests?”

“That’s fine,” he said, without breaking eye contact with Sansa. “Sansa, I meant it before.”

“I already told you I believe you,” she said quietly. “Now shush and watch the movie.”

She curled into a comfortable position.

He did the same, scooting a bit closer to her in the process. Close enough that when the main title sequence of the movie began, he used the closeness to whisper. “About what Robb said earlier…”

She shook her head. “It’s not important.”

“It felt like it was…” he said softly.

“We can talk about it later,” she said.

“Later,” he echoed, settling down on the sofa. “After the film?”

“Fine. Just…”

“Shush and watch the movie,” he supplied for her, smirking a bit. “I won’t forget, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “I suppose you won’t.”

“Because it felt important.”

“ _Theon_.”

“Sansa.”

“Watch the movie,” she muttered.

He did. He turned back to the screen just as the opening song began to play.

Sansa didn’t mind the film in the slightest. This was actually one she rewatched regularly, but she knew it was not one of Robb’s favourites. He disliked how thin the plot was. Which was a joke, considering his choices for films he thought had substantial plots.

She wasn’t sure about Theon, but he looked bored, so she probably would have to put him in Robb’s category, and not in the other. Which contained herself and Marg.

Who were currently singing ‘Hungry Eyes’ poorly.

Theon did shoot her a look after a particularly butchered high note. She simply smirked. “What? That song’s a bop. I’ll add it to my driving playlist for tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said flippantly. “You could use the practice.”

She swatted him lightly and he grinned over at her.

For all her fuss about choosing the film and making everyone watch with her, Margaery was nodding off soon after her and Sansa’s impromptu duet. Anxious to skip out early, Robb got up and took her to bed, whispering a hurried goodnight to both of them.

“Sansa…” Theon whispered the second Robb had left the room.

“I’m watching this,” she said, even though she wasn’t. She’d seen this a million times.

“You’re watching,” he stated. It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one.

“I am. One of my favourite films, this.”

He snorted. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

“Too right you will,” she said, chuckling a bit as she watched Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey dance on screen.

Of course, the film was over much too soon, and once it had ended and Theon had switched off the movie and put on something that looked like late-night reruns of some sitcom, cutting the volume down low enough to not be a deterrent to their conversation.

He was looking at her, and Sansa knew what he wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to tell him, so he’d have to ask for it.

“Sans… about what Robb said earlier…”

“What about it?” she asked, staring at the carpet.

“Sans…” he said, scooting close enough to take her hand. “I don’t know what Robb’s talking about, could you remind me? Was it something I did while I was using?” His voice sounded thin. Wavery. Nervous.

Of course that’s the conclusion he’d jump to. Now she felt terrible for not having this conversation with him earlier.

Inhaling sharply, she shook her head. “Theon, you never did anything to me, or around me while you were using that was untoward or bad or anything like that.”

He seemed to relax a bit after that. Only a bit, though. “Okay, so I don’t understand why Robb would say that...“

“It happened when we were kids.” She turned to look at him, noting his confusion that was written all over his face. “I was eight. I think you and Robb were—“

“I was eleven, Robb was ten.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. Maybe he did remember after all. She could just get away with a very vague description. “You and he made that fort in the woods. At the top of one of the smaller trees?”

“Yeah, I remember the fort,” he said absently, clearly trying to remember the incident she was referencing.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to be up there with you guys, but you had the no-girls-allowed sign, so I climbed up directly after you, and before you could pull up the rope ladder…” She trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the rest, but he didn’t. He was still looking at her like he was confused. Like she wasn’t speaking his language or something. So she continued. “And I got to the top, and you asked me if I couldn’t read, implying the sign? And I said I couldn’t read _your_ handwriting, were you certain it was in Common? And while I was saying that, I let go of the rope ladder and grabbed the floor of the treehouse, and you got this look in your eye when I accused you of being stupid, and grabbed both of my hands and pried them off the boards and pushed me down?”

His eyes widened, his mouth falling open a bit.

“And I fell back and hit the ground on my back, and it knocked the wind out of me, and you and Robb were so worried I was going to tell mum on you?”

He still looked confused and troubled. _He didn’t remember._

A warm burst of embarrassment washed over her and she frowned at him. “You don’t remember…” she stated, realizing very quickly that the incident that had been so important to her, barely registered with him. It was one incident almost twenty years before, why would he remember? “And why would you?” she asked, smiling in a way that most certainly didn’t reach her eyes. She pushed up off the sofa. “It was just one silly thing that happened years ago, it’s fine now, it no longer affects me--“

His hand shot out and grabbed hers, tugging her gently back to the sofa, this time closer to him.

“Sansa…” he whispered. “I’m sorry… I don’t remember that. But it’s _not_ nothing. And it’s not silly. It’s important. It does affect you… you’re still frightened of heights to this day, and that’s…” he trailed off. “That’s my fault?”

‘“It’s not,” she said softly. “You never did it again. And even if your apologies were very self-serving at the time, I know it scared you. I saw your face as I was falling. It caught both of us by surprise. And you’ve never done anything again to make it worse, it is what it is, Theon. It was a thing that happened and now it’s over.”

He shook his head and quickly pulled her in for a hug. She hooked her chin over his shoulder as he wound his arms around her tightly. “I’m so sorry, Sansa.”

“Theon…” She patted his back. “Theon, we were children. It’s alright. You would never do it now, would you?”

“No, never…” he hugged her more tightly. “Sansa, I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need for that,” she insisted.

“There is. It’s a blemish.”

“Blemishes aren’t fatal,” she said softly.

“No, but they’re unsightly,” he retorted. “I don’t want… I don’t want to be something unsightly in your eyes.”

“You’re not,” she insisted, pushing back from him and placing her hands on both shoulders. “You’re not an unsightly anything for me, Theon.”

He pressed his lips together and leaned back against the sofa. “I just… I had no idea. I didn’t… I sort of remember it happening now that I’m thinking hard about it, but I’m unsure how much of that is your memory imprinting and how much is actually my memory. I’m just… mostly angry at myself for apparently tossing out something so important…”

“Brains are weird,” she said, leaning back on the sofa herself, curling up sideways and laying her head on the back of the sofa. “They remember things that are bizarre and unimportant and seemingly toss out things that we’d like to remember. It’s like having an unstable cat in charge of keeping your memories safe. Not the best design plan, eh?”

He chuckled and turned his head towards her. “You’re a very strong person, Sansa.”

“Why? Because I can live despite what amounted to a childhood mishap?”

“No. Because of all the things that have happened to you, and you’re still you. You can still find humour and goodness in everyone.”

“That’s because goodness isn’t black and white, Theon. We aren’t either. We’re every shade of grey and it’s wonderful to try and pick out all the good things from all that grey. Feels like an honest way to live.” She grinned. “And once you start doing it, you see more good than not.”

“Guess I should start, huh?”

“Start on yourself,” she replied, reaching over to poke his shoulder. He smiled at the action. “I’m serious. You’re lovely. And the first step to seeing the good in others is to practice by finding it in yourself. You’ve got a lot of good in there, Theon.”

“Gods, Sansa,” he exhaled loudly, gazing up at the ceiling. “This is your trauma, and I’ve somehow gotten you to comfort _me_. _Again_.”

She laughed. “Maybe because I don’t need comforting anymore.”

“Maybe I want to comfort you now because I couldn’t back then.”

“That’s selfish of you then,” she said with a derisive sniff. “Not bad, but it’s selfish. Because it’s certainly not to make me feel better. It’s purely for you.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe you could do with some of it as well?”

“It most assuredly is for you. You should decide whether it’s worth it to continue because some selfish things are self-care in wolf’s clothing.

“I feel very strongly that I should comfort you right now.”

“Well, then… hop to it, Greyjoy. The night’s not getting any younger. And I’m not getting any less sleepy.”

He chuckled and scooted closer, tugging her close until her head fell against his shoulder. “You wanna watch something else?”

“Something that’s not Dirty Dancing?” she asked, giggling.

“Gods _please_.” He picked up the remote. “I think I saw the Birds was going to be playing somewhere this weekend…”

“Oh really?” she asked, almost giddily. “I love that one. Find it.”

“I hope I can now… would hate to have gotten your hopes up.”

She giggled and dragged the blanket back over her. “Do you want under?” she asked, offering the edge and he looked at her for a long moment like he was considering both options before nodding.

Sansa wasn’t sure why it made her so happy that he accepted.

She shifted around until they could both drape the blanket over their laps and then bent her knees to bring her feet up underneath with them.

He found the Birds, and it had only just started so they hadn’t missed much more than the opening credits. She settled in for the film, sneaking glances over at Theon in the interim. He seemed to be watching the movie, all except for once where she locked eyes with him, and they sort of stared at each other for a long moment before their eyes flitted nervously back to the movie.

Her eyelids got heavy around three-quarters of the way through, but she figured she’d just tough it out until the end.

It was almost over anyway.

* * *

Sansa woke up the next morning with the sun streaming in through the window across the room. The TV was off, and she was warm.

 _So_ warm.

She inhaled and stretched her legs, realizing belatedly that she was on a sofa. She must have fallen asleep out in the living room. Panic bloomed in her chest as her feet came into contact with other feet. Not her feet. Extra feet. Warm feet.

Gods, he was warm. Warm, and he smelled so good.

He smelled like whatever cologne it was that he wore and the soap that he used in the shower and a distinctly male scent that she associated with men. It had something to do with shaving cream and the lack of floral scents being added to all of their products.

It was warm and heady and _gods_ , it was one of the things she missed about having a bloke.

Well, that and that which was poking her in the arse. She missed that too.

But this wasn’t the time to think about that. Or anything she missed about not being single.

Slowly, she rolled over, trying not to think too much about the position they were in, and instead used the time to pray to the seven or to whoever would listen that he was still asleep. She slowly shifted until she was on her back, and when she turned to look at him, he was looking down at her.

She gulped. “Theon… good morning.”

“Morning,” he said softly, peering down at her as if he was confused.

“I think we—“

“Fell asleep watching the movie,” he finished for her. “I felt you go to sleep, you sort of landed on me. I was going to carry you to bed once the film ended, but—“

“It’s alright,” she said quickly, kicking both legs out from under the blanket and rolling to her feet. “It’s alright. I’m just… I’m going to go, um… coffee.”

“Okay,” he said, watching her go as she left the room. She bolted toward the kitchen and almost crashed into Margaery, who had already pulled the coffee out and was scooping some into the pot.

Sansa scanned the bag, seeing the word _decaf_ , and making a strangled sort of sound. “You don’t have real coffee?”

Marg rubbed her belly. “Not for a while yet. I’m counting down, don’t you worry.”

“ _Gods…_ ” Sansa rubbed her face.

“So…” Marg said, smiling sweetly. “How’d you sleep?”

She had that look in her eyes that made Sansa wanted to either laugh or throw something at her. She wasn’t sure which right now. She glanced over at the door and jerked her head in the direction of the breakfast nook. Marg followed her, padding over in her bare feet as they stood across the room.

“I fell asleep with Theon last night…” she hissed.

“No kidding,” Marg said with a very amused expression.

“No, I mean… that’s—“

“You know we wouldn’t have been scandalized if you wanted to use the guest room, right?” Marg asked.

“ _Margaery…_ ”

“I’m serious, Sans. We’re not prudes. At least I’m not. Your brother, on the other hand…” She puffed out an exhale and widened her eyes knowingly. “He’s a piece of work, but I love him.”

“No, Marg, you don’t understand. This has never happened before!”

Her eyes widened even more if that was possible.

“What do you mean, that hasn’t happened before?”

“It hasn’t. We’re not… we don’t—“

“He’s living with you. He’s right down the hall. It’s been like almost a year since you dated someone. And he’s not with anyone. And it’s _Theon_.”

“All of those things are true, but none of the quantifiably lead to any conclusions other than—“

“Oh gods, Sansa. Do you honestly not realise how much you like him?”

Sansa stared blankly at Margaery. “I respect him. But honestly, I’ve never—“

“I know you’ve never. But I know how you act when you like someone, Sansa Stark. I’ve known you to get that look about exactly three guys and none of them deserved it. You expect me not to make a big deal about one that does?”

“Margaery,” she hissed. “Keep your voice down, he’s in there still.”

Marg rolled her eyes. “You fell asleep spooning each other. He likely knows you don’t find him disgusting.”

“Please just… don’t tell Robb about this, okay? Not until I figure out what this… what it is because I don’t know. Right now it’s just a mistaken action…I didn’t mean to fall asleep on him.”

“How late did you two stay up last night?”

“Well, after Robb’s big mouth happened, I had to go into all that shit about the tree fort and Theon pushing me and all that garbage…” Sansa sighed and Margaery raised her eyebrows.

“How’d that go?”

“He didn’t remember, but he was really apologetic.”

“Did he hug you?”

“Yes,” Sansa said.

Marg got this haughty look on her face but said nothing further. It was bait and Sansa wasn’t taking it.

She ignored it and moved on. “And it took a while to talk it out, and after that, we were both keyed up, so we started watching the Birds. And then we got under the blanket—“

“Wait. You got under the blanket?” Margaery asked. “Together? The same blanket?”

“Yes,” Sansa said with a sigh. “Yes.”

“Gods, you know that means you’re married in olden times, right?”

“Margaery, I swear to the gods…”

She chuckled. “Sansa, don’t worry. Secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell Robb, but if he figures it out on his own, I won’t lie to him.”

Sansa snorted. “Fat chance of that happening.”

“I know, right?” Marg giggled. “He didn’t even know I was interested in him until I flat out told him I wanted to shag.”

Sansa giggled. “You told him that?”

“I had to. I was hard up and he still thought I wanted to be friends!”

“Gods, _Robb_.” Sansa shook her head.

“But you’re going to talk about this with Theon, aren’t you?” Margaery asked.

“Yes. I am.”

“Because he’s fragile,” Margaery warned. “I know he looks like he’s this big strong recovering addict, but he’s fragile too. He’s not immune.”

“I know that,” Sansa replied. “I know, and that’s precisely why this can’t happen right now.”

Marg’s shoulders settled and she beamed like she’d won something. What, Sansa had no idea. Because she’d basically told her it wasn’t happening. “Okay. So go in there and talk with him. I’ll keep Robb out of your hair.”

“Thank you, Margaery.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

She went back into the living room to find him folding up the blanket and placing it back on the couch. He’d changed out of his pyjamas, so he must have gone to the loo at some point. Which was good. That meant he likely didn’t hear her talk with Marg in the kitchen.

“Hey…” she said, stopping just shy of the coffee table.

“Did you make coffee?’ he asked.

“Marg did,” Sansa said, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “They only have decaf though. Because of the baby.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Seven bloody hells.”

“I know,” she said, giggling a bit. A bit too much for what he’d said. “Listen Theon, I think we need to talk.”

He sat down on the sofa and patted the space beside him. A safe distance away.

“Look, about last night…” she said. “And this morning… and a few minutes ago. I’m sorry I ran out before talking to you… it was…”

Was what?” she thought. Was the best night of sleep she’d ever gotten? Was the most comfortable she’d been in a long time. Was more than a little pleasant?

“I understand,” he said, nodding his head. “I’m not some wide-eyed innocent here, Sans. I know it was geography and being too tired to stay up any longer.”

“Theon—“ she began again, intending to tell him just what she was thinking. That she enjoyed it a lot, and maybe it was something they should look into, but he continued.

“It wasn’t any bother, Sansa.”

She bristled immediately. He must have noticed, because his eyebrows twitched as he looked at her, watching her face.

_It wasn’t any bother?_

Of course. It wasn’t a big deal to him. Just like the other thing wasn’t a big deal to him. He hadn’t remembered pushing her off the tree fort, and he didn’t mind falling asleep together on the sofa.

“It wasn’t any bother,” she echoed, nodding, and looking down at the carpet.

“I mean…” he began again, flustered. “Not trying to say it wasn’t anything, Sansa, it was just something that happened, you don’t have to worry about anything coming from it, is what I mean…”

_What if she wanted something to come of it? Not now, obviously. But eventually?_

Sansa smiled immediately, reaching out with both her hands to grab his. “Theon. It’s fine, alright? You’re lovely to sleep next to. You didn’t kick me off the sofa and you didn’t hog the blanket.”

He blushed and grinned in that crooked way that made her forget everything else. “Thanks, Sansa. You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Not too warm?” she asked, grinning.

“Just right,” he replied. And she thrilled a little at hearing that from him. She released his hands and tilted her head back towards the kitchen. “I know you promised Marg and Robb that you’d cook, but I was looking forward to it as well, so…”

“Don’t I cook for you every day?” he teased. “Aren’t you sick of it yet?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not sick of it.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I see how it is. You only like me for my eggs.”

“Of course, Theon. Haven’t you heard? Omelets are a girl’s best friend.”

He laughed and went out to the kitchen.

Sansa watched him leave and tried not to think about the way it felt to make him laugh. Those were thoughts that didn’t do anyone any good. Especially when Marg had told her she had a look when she was around him. She needed to see to that. Squash it down. Because if Marg could see it, it was only a matter of time before Theon did. And she liked him too much to make him uncomfortable like that. Especially before he was ready for anything.

She left the living room and went back to the guest room to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3
> 
> Leave me some sugar if you liked it!


	5. Theon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Special thanks to treaddelicately for beta-reading this and being an all around awesome person. 
> 
> There's a bit of Yara in this chapter, and more to come in chapter 6. First time writing her, so I'm a bit nervous. ;) Hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Also, this chapter killed me. Killed me dead. Just FYI. <3

_I suppose I mostly wanted you to know that someone was thinking about you._

_I hope I’ve done that. -S_

* * *

He could almost tell before he opened his eyes that it was going to be a shit day.

There hadn’t been as many since he’d left the clinic, so it of course took him completely by surprise.

Theon wrinkled his nose against the feeling, but even that ached, so he cracked his eyes open to glance at the clock.

8:19 am

It was later than he usually slept in. So this wasn’t a lack of sleep thing like he’d been half-hoping. Even if he knew it was in vain.

He ran his tongue over his dry lips and squinted to see the glass of water he’d set on the nightstand the night before. He sat up and was surprised when the room didn’t spin. He took a sip and sighed as the cool water slid down his throat.

So no nausea, then. No sweating. No stomach problems at all.

It wasn’t anything like the dope-sick days he’d had at the Rest. But it _was_ drug-related. Because he somehow knew a hit would get him feeling better within seconds.

But that was the addiction talking, wasn’t it? Not him.

Maester Luwin told him that whenever this happened if he concentrated, he could tell the difference between his inner voice and the one that belonged to the addiction. He’d been expecting a difference in tone, but what it really boiled down to was the taste in his mouth.

His own desires and wants tasted like nothing, or more aptly, like ease and a cool glass of water. Nothing but refreshing. The addiction tasted like blood in his mouth, but as was the nature of the beast, it was a feeling he craved for some reason.

His head pounded with a steady pulse as he stood and made his way across the hall. It felt like the world’s worst hangover. He didn’t want to move, but the Maester and the caretakers at the Rest had forced him to go through with his daily routine whenever this happened, so he assumed that was the way to beat this. He’d ring the Maester for an emergency therapy session later if he wasn’t feeling better by lunchtime.

Theon turned on the shower, cooler than he preferred to shock his system into restarting. A do-over would be great. Hard reset. Hold down the power button for ten seconds and try again.

He rolled his shoulders and groaned at the ache that had settled in between them. His stomach growled, but he had no appetite. Yeah, even without nausea, this fucking sucked.

Shampooing his hair was a major ordeal, but the scent of the soap seemed to help calm him down. He replaced the bottle and grabbed the soap next, checking off the actions like he used to before. He concentrated on the list itself and not the actions.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, he smelled cleaner and he was shivering a little, but his head was still pounding. Sansa had paracetamol in her bathroom, but he didn’t think asking for some would help. This wasn’t real pain. Only imagined.

“Fuck…” he groaned into the mirror, staring at his bloodshot eyes and inspecting the way his face looked. Pale, but filled out since he’d been living here.

He looked a bit green, as if he was close to puking but other than that, it wasn’t that bad. At least he didn’t have the other shitty parts of detoxing to look forward to.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Theon?”

Her voice was so quiet, it almost hurt to listen over the nothing. He had to strain and it immediately irritated him.

“What?” he asked, sounding very, _very_ sharp and regretting it almost immediately. He brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose “Sorry, Sansa. Do you need anything?”

“It’s alright…” she said absently. “I was just coming home from my run, and I heard you call out? Are you alright?”

He must have said ‘fuck’ louder than he thought.

“I’m… not feeling great today,” he said.

“Oh…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry to hear that.’

“Yeah.”

“Want breakfast, or are you nauseated?”

He didn’t want breakfast. But eating was also something they’d sort of pushed on him at the Rest, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. Especially since he wasn’t nauseous.

“I could eat,” he replied.

“Smoothie?” she offered.

“That’s a drink,” he stated. “But yeah, that sounds good.”

She drummed her fingers on the door in reply and he heard her footsteps retreating.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went across the hall to get dressed. Managing to pull on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt, Theon half-dried his hair with the towel before returning it to the bathroom to hang on the rack. He didn’t bother with shaving or anything else, he figured the shower was good enough. He didn’t think he could stand holding a razor right now anyway.

Sansa had all the ingredients in the blender, and went to turn it on, but saw him approach. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “This will be loud…”

He glanced toward the balcony and nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.”

She waited until he’d closed the sliding door behind him and then he heard the whir of the blender, albeit, very muted by the closed doors.

He stared out over the balcony at the early morning traffic and beach beyond. He’d left his cigarette back on his bedside table, but he didn’t feel like going to get it. He’d likely smoke it and start up a whole new addiction. And he needed to smoke cigarettes right now like he needed a hole in the head.

It didn’t take long for Sansa to finish up in the kitchen, and she came over and rapped on the sliding glass door, retreating before he could even turn around. He felt a pang in his chest when he saw her scurrying back to the kitchen to pour the smoothie into cups.

Ever since she’d told him about the cause for her fear of heights he’d felt like a piece of shit. Not because she let it colour her regard of him, but because she didn’t, and that was almost worse.

It wasn’t fair. She was such a nice person, why did he fuck up everything he touched?

Gods, no wonder she hadn’t reacted to his gift in High school. If this had caused such an adverse reaction in her, she likely didn’t want anything to do with him then.

Then why did she write to him while he was at the Rest? It almost felt wrong, her giving him so much comfort when he’d caused something so awful for her.

He had mixed feelings.

Well, he had feelings. How mixed they were was up for debate.

He’d definitely had feelings that morning at Robb’s. It had been almost two weeks that had passed since he’d awoken on the sofa with Sansa curled into his arms. Her body pressed so completely against him, he felt things stirring that he hadn’t felt in quite a while.

And while it was comforting to know certain bits still worked, it had become a bit of a problem. Because those aforementioned feelings hadn’t dissipated in the slightest.

So, he felt guilty for the whole tree fort thing. He felt a yearning deep in his chest for more close contact with her, and he felt raw and split open due to his godsdamned brain and its neverending quest to fuck everything up for him.

And as far as Sansa herself, when he’d run everything through the strainer in his mind and was left with just her… just a person. Just Sansa, well, that was complicated as well.

He’d panicked at first about how she’d reacted, bolting out to the kitchen the second she’d discovered that she’d woken up in his arms. But then, of course, she’d come back and smoothed it over. She was nervous. It was an accident. He was pretty sure he’d paved over it fairly well. Given her an out.

When it came to Sansa, he both wanted her and didn’t. He wanted her because he just did. It felt more right than anything else. Maybe he always had, and he hadn’t recognized it for what it was? Or more likely, the close proximately had allowed buried half-feelings to sprout into fully grown trees that he wanted to lay in the shade of with his eyes closed forever because it was the nicest thing he had in his life, and it was fucked up because Sansa wasn’t a thing, and he didn’t have her. But he fucking _wanted_. But he didn’t because of all the aforementioned fucked-up-ness of the situation, and the fact that he was still in recovery and needed to separate the rest of his life from the constant vigilance and self-centered way recovery simply was.

And if he still wanted her then? He could revisit.

It all sounded so logical in his head. And then he’d enter a room where she also was, and turn into an idiot, bent on self-destruction, but wanting to take one thing for himself on his way out, and that wasn’t what she deserved.

He pulled open the sliding door and entered the kitchen. She had the smoothies poured and handed one to him, taking a big drag from her straw before placing it on the counter and transferring the blender to the sink. She ran water in it and left it there, pushing the base of the blender back against the wall again before turning back to face him.

“Is it okay?”

“Oh…” He took a sip from the straw, the tart smoothness filled his mouth and he gave her a thumbs up. “Yeah, it’s good. Thanks.”

He stood there in one spot, his vision blurring as he stared at the countertop where a piece of frozen strawberry had fallen. He watched it soften up and melt while she bustled around, cleaning this and that, all between sips of her smoothie.

When she wiped the strawberry away, he blinked, realizing his cup was empty. He went to put it in the sink and ran water in the glass before leaving it there.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” she asked, her blue eyes locked on his and full of worry. “Was it something I did? Is this about what happened at Robb and Marg’s?”

Theon blinked. “It’s been two weeks since Robb and Marg’s.”

“I know, but…” She bounced nervously.

“It’s not that. We’re fine, Sansa. We talked, remember?” He sounded tired, even to his own ears.

“Are you not sleeping?”

He didn’t want to tell her what was wrong. Because she’d think he was disgusting. No matter how much she stuck up for him with Cat. She wouldn’t want to know he was a piece of garbage backslider who would do anything right now for a fix.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been staying up too late. Don’t worry. You’ve got that thing with Cersei Lannister today anyway.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

He smiled. Or tried to. It felt like a smile, but judging by her face, it wasn’t.

“Really, Theon. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He snorted. “Really? You think because we fell asleep on a couch together, that entitles you to all my secrets?” As soon as he’d said it, he regretted it. “Sorry,” he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. It still ached and he felt like shit now for more than one reason.

“Theon… what’s wrong?” she asked, and he felt her reach out to touch him. Her hand was warm on his arm. “You’re not being like yourself…”

“What if I am?” he asked, opening his eyes and peering over at her. “What if I am? What if I’ve been putting on a ruse this entire time, and I’ve finally grown tired of it?”

She set her jaw and shook her head. “Nope. Not buying it.”

“Nothing to buy,” he muttered.

“Because you’re not like this. Please tell me what’s going on with you,” she pleaded.

He couldn’t look at her and not tell her. No matter what it made her think about it. It couldn’t be worse than the shit job he was doing of protecting his integrity.

“I’m… I want to use,” he almost whispered.

“What?”

“I want to use. A craving. It’s a craving…”

Her brow knit. “Do you have these often?”

That wasn’t the question he thought she’d ask, but since she had, he found himself answering her. “Not like this. Not since I came here.”

“What do you need?” she asked. He shot her a look and she sighed. “Besides that, obviously.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I can’t think past the need to…” he trailed off. She knew what.

“Okay, give me a second, okay?”

He nodded and ran his hand over his face as she disappeared for a long moment, returning with her phone in hand. She had it held up to her ear and smiled when someone picked up, a sugar-sweet tone embedding itself in her voice. “Hi there, message for Cersei Lannister?”

By the time Theon realized what she was doing, it was too late to grab the phone from her and stop it from happening.

“Yes, this is Sansa Stark, and I’m afraid today’s not going to be good for me… an emergency’s come up. Something with family.” She paused. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, but I won’t be able to make the meeting. I’ll have to reschedule.”

She paused again and nodded. “Right. Thanks. I look forward to hearing back from you.”

She ended the call and looked at him. “Alright. Let’s go somewhere.”

He could feel the ache in his forehead from his brow knitting so tightly. “Sansa… you’ve been talking about that meeting for weeks. Since I got here. Since before that, even.”

She shrugged. “It’s a meeting. Cersei Lannister certainly isn’t going anywhere.”

“I…” he began, trailing off because he wasn’t sure what the correct thing was to say in moments like this. Moments where someone did something so thoughtful and selfless that it qualified them for sainthood or something. Maybe the seven should become the eight and Sansa Stark was the last of them

“We can go to the beach,” she offered. “The weather’s nice. I’m sure it’ll be fun to walk around. You could bring your camera or something?”

He blinked, feeling very much like every time he moved, there was some catastrophic thud as pieces of him shifted.

“The beach?” he echoed.

“Yes. That bit where the shore meets the ocean? People seem to like it. Pretty sure there are even some who made a religion about it or whatever.” She arched her eyebrow in such a saucy manner, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know what it is, smart-ass, I just didn’t think of it as a destination this close to winter. Isn’t it going to be dreadfully cold and windy?”

She shrugged. “You have a coat, don’t you? Not afraid of a little wind, are you, Greyjoy?” Her smile was infectious and he found himself nodding.

“Okay, let’s go to the beach.”

“Get your camera,” she said as they walked past his bedroom door.

He didn’t feel like it, but he got it anyway because it would be something to keep his mind busy and off the thoughts of _‘more please now need it_ ’ that seemed to be rattling around in there right now.

“So I don’t miss a dead, bloated gull? Maybe I can do it in black and white and get the real loneliness of it all, eh?”

She rolled her eyes and didn’t answer him, simply grabbed her coat and slipped on her shoes by the door. It took a bit more doing to get his trainers on and rummage in the pile of clothes he had at the bottom of his bed to find the hoodie he preferred over his coat.

Once he had, though, they were off and they made their way down to the car. Sansa beamed at Sandor when they passed him.

“What’s going on there?” Theon heard himself ask. “I mean, what’s he doing guarding a set of condos? He looks like he’d make a name for himself in the private sector or something?”

“Know a lot about the private sector, do you?” she teased as they pulled out of the car park and into the road.

“I know enough. Ramsay had some hired goons around him most times. A fat lot of good that did him at the end of it though,” he said flippantly. He didn’t even notice his hands were shaking until Sansa reached over to squeeze one of them. He thought she’d squeeze him and then let him go, but she didn’t. She laced their fingers and kept her hand in his, driving with the other one.

“Sandor took that job about a month before I started dating Joffrey,” she said suddenly, squeezing his hand again. He’s kept Joff out of the building a few times. Harry too.”

“Joff?” he repeated. “That little Baratheon shit? Aren’t you looking to go into business with his mother?”

“They’re estranged,” she said stiffly. “She lied to him about the identity of his father, so he doesn’t have anything to do with her.”

Theon’s eyebrows rose. “His father’s not Robert?”

Sansa chuckled without humour. “Not as such.”

“Who is?”

She shot him a sly look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Of course I would. That’s why I asked. I’m having a shite day, Sansa. You have to give me something.”

She chuckled. “Not that, I don’t. I wish I didn’t know.”

“If it’s _that_ bad, why are you working with his mum?”

“Because it’s not common knowledge. And she’s got one of the most profitable private boutiques in the seven kingdoms.”

“Those Lannisters,” Theon said softly. “They always pay their debts.”

“That they do. Partnering with her makes good financial sense, but I’ve got some trepidation about it…”

“Which is why you canceled today?”

“Well, partly. It was mostly because I could tell you needed a day out,” she said. “Stop trying to do away with my good deed, Theon. Let me have it. Let yourself have it.”

She pulled into a parking place at the nearly deserted beach and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. It’s beautiful this time of day.”

He watched her as she walked to the edge of the car park, standing on the cement thing in front of the car and making herself look even taller.

Theon was still sitting in the car, on the pretense of getting his camera set up.

_Let yourself have it._

Those words seemed to echo in his mind. Let myself have it? Have _what_?

Her good faith? Her good deed?

He didn’t deserve either of them.

But did anyone really?

He slipped the strap of his camera over his neck and stepped out onto the asphalt and closed the car door behind him. The salty smell of the sea almost burned his nose, but he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He should come out here more often.

As much as he hated his father, this was part of him. It wouldn’t do to keep himself away from it.

Sansa waited for him, and they walked through the powdery sand as they made their way down to the shore.

“So… is this your thing now?” he asked. “Your aesthetic? Your brand or whatever?”

She frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to decipher what he was saying. “My _brand_?”

“Yeah… the beach thing. Is that your thing?” He wasn’t even sure if he was asking the right question, and he wasn’t even sure if he should be saying what he was saying, but here he was, saying it. Apparently, his brain tossed the mind-to-mouth filter the second things became uncomfortable.

“I don’t-- my brand isn’t nautical if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean that photo you have in all your videos. The one of the sea glass? The one I gave you?”

She stopped walking and looked at him, her blue eyes searching his for something. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for or he’d be able to give it to her, but he stared back all the same. “You don’t remember that I—“

“Of course I remember, Theon!” She reached out to touch him but stopped. “I remember. You gave it to me for my sweet sixteen. I unwrapped it and—“

“And you sort of tossed it aside with the rest of the things and—“

“And you disappeared, so I couldn’t thank you properly!”

Pressing his lips together, he started walking again. She followed. “This is truly bothering you, isn’t it?”

He sighed and stopped again. “A bit, yeah. I actually worked on that gift. And I’m flattered to see it in your videos but— was it about the whole… tree fort thing?”

Sighing, she shook her head. “Let’s walk and talk. I’m better if I’m moving.”

He fell into step beside her, waiting for her to start talking.

“So, it’s not really about the tree fort thing. But to say that it had no bearing in how I reacted would be false,” she began. “You always made fun of people for having a big reaction to anything you did. I remember when you dated my friend, Jeyne, and broke up with her after she publicly thanked you for a Valentine’s gift?”

“Oh Sansa, that was different! Jeyne and I were on the out, that gift just cinched it. Your party was in public! Everyone got you something. And you thanked all of them except for me.”

She pressed her lips together. “Forgive me for not handling it very well, Theon. I was sixteen, and you were in your final year at school.”

He took a deep breath. “Plus, we weren’t dating. I wouldn’t have broken up with you.”

“You might have embarrassed me,” she countered. “Especially if my proclamations embarrassed you.”

He was quiet for a long moment because she was right. Of bloody course she was right. “What would you have said?”

“What?”

“If you tell me what you would have said, I can tell you how I might have reacted.”

Sighing a bit, she stopped walking and turned to him. “Thank you for the photo, Theon. It’s lovely. I love the colour of the glass and the fact that you saw something that made you think of me and thought to snap a picture means so much. All the more that you thought to give it to me. It’s a very thoughtful gift, likely the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever received. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

She sounded sincere. And also a bit rehearsed as if it wasn’t the first time she’d thought of those words. She was smiling slightly, and he knew he should say something. So he looked down at his feet, trainers covered with sand already. “You’re welcome, Sans.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. The action made his face flame red, but he wrapped his arms around her as well, careful not to squeeze because his camera was hanging around his neck.

“Come, let’s go walking along the shore,” she said, reaching out for his hand and tugging along. He winced, thinking his head would likely pang at the jolt, but it didn’t.

He inhaled the sea air again and followed closely after her. He pulled up the camera and readied it, stopping as she walked in front of him, her arms spread out to the side. A breeze blew her long red hair out to the side and the way the sun caught it looked breathtaking.

He snapped a few shots, hoping one of them came out.

She turned abruptly. “Are you taking my picture?”

He smirked. “Maybe.”

“Warn me next time. For all I know, I was in the middle of pulling a face or something.”

“Not that time,” he said absently, fiddling with the camera a bit more.

“Oy!” she exclaimed, turning back to come and swat him, but he snapped a few pictures of her as she ran toward him, a grin on her face as she batted at him.

Gods, she was beautiful.

The thought took him by surprise, and he nearly toppled over when she ran into him, but he scooted his foot back to catch himself and her just in time. He had his hands on her forearms to steady her. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Did I almost knock you over?’ she asked. “Oh, you’re still not feeling well, are you?”

“I’m better than I was,” he insisted.

“Really?” She asked, beamed at him. His hands tightened briefly on her forearms before he released her and returned the expression.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. I’m sorry you were feeling bad,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose that just made her look more adorable.

Drowned God, he was in trouble.

He was calling her beautiful, and now adorable? He had issues. Apparently.

“I’m gonna sit down,” he said abruptly.

“Oh, okay?” she said. “Want me to…”

“Or you could go walk over there, I might find some shots for your Instagram or something…”

She toed off her shoes and socks and walked barefoot in the sand to the water’s edge. She didn’t allow it to touch her. It was probably too cold. But as they sat there, Theon did indeed get more shots of her.

He couldn’t see what they looked like, but if they captured any of the beauty that was Sansa Stark walking in the sand, they’d be perfect as far as he was concerned.

He’d have to develop these in the makeshift darkroom he’d made out of the second closet in his room. Get some prints that were maybe usable. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Taking pictures of Sansa. He saw her all the time as it was. But it gave him time to look at her unencumbered. Without her catching his gaze and making his mind go blank when she smiled. Maybe sort through some of these sodding feelings.

She glanced back at him, smiling slightly as the wind blew her hair again and Theon snapped a few shots before concentrating on the horizon in front of them. On the shells in the tidal pool at the base of the rocks. He didn’t want her to think the only pictures he’s been snapping have been of her.

She came up behind him when he was gazing down into the tidal pool at a horseshoe crab scuttling about in the shallow water. There wasn’t a good shot of it, or he’d have taken it. The glare from the sun on the reflective surface of the water was too bright.

“Theon?” she said softly, kneeling beside him. “You alright?”

He nodded. “Much better.”

“I’m glad.” She slipped a slender arm around his shoulders and squeezed. It took everything in his being not to turn into the embrace and make more of it than she likely was.

He swallowed thickly and held the camera up in front of him, hoping to trick her into thinking he was snapping a photo. He did snap a few, knowing damn well they wouldn’t turn out.

It succeeded in getting her to drop her arm from his shoulders.

He finally straightened up and kept walking along the water’s edge. She fell behind him, pulling out her phone to swipe furiously at the screen. And then he heard it ring. He glanced back and she shot him a grin before answering it. She turned toward the ocean and he walked on to give her some privacy.

The call didn’t take long, and she tagged along behind him in no time. “Cersei?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Rescheduling as a Zoom meeting for next week.”

“Ah,” he replied, looking down at his now soaking wet sneakers in the wet sand. “Sorry that you missed that.”

“For the last time, no need to apologise. I could use the extra time to prepare.”

He smiled and pointed the camera down at the sand, at his own feet. It could very likely turn into something decent. There was a thin line between poignant and hipster. He hoped it leaned towards poignant. Some kind of metaphor for the struggle of recovery.

“What do you want to do next?” he asked absently, letting his camera fall against his chest as he stretched his arms.

“Up to you,” she said.

His eyes spotted exactly where he wanted to go next, but it was going to take some convincing to get Sansa to go up there. Up being the keyword.

He pointed at the pier. “How about up there? Bet I could get some great photos.”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head rapidly. “No, that’s okay, Theon…”

“I mean it. The light’s great up there. And the wood’s sensational.”

“It looks like it’s going to collapse.”

He shot her a look. “It won’t.”

“Theon… you know how I feel about heights.”

“Yeah. And I know why.”

“ _Theon_ …” she groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you that you have nothing to apologise for? You don’t have to prove anything or fix me or anything like that...”

“I don’t want to prove anything. I want to take your photo on the pier.”

“No way, Theon.” She shook her head and laughed.

“Even if I’m there with you the entire time?” he asked. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“You’ll have to hold more than that,” she acquiesced.

“Fine,” he said, extending his hand towards her. “I’ll hold whatever you want.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Was it terrible of him to not mind that in the slightest?

She took it and together, they made their way up to the pier. It started back closer to the boardwalk, so they had to circle around to get there.

She was fine until they started walking on the wooden planks of the boardwalk. “Alright, love?” he asked, slowing to a halt and squeezing her hand.

She pressed her lips together until they turned white. When she released them, they were pink. A bit darker than before. She nodded. “Yeah… yeah.” He waited for her to start walking again, which she did presently.

Once they got onto the pier itself, she got shaky. Her palm started sweating and she slowed her pace. Theon let her lead, not about to force her to go anywhere she wasn’t comfortable.

She’d stopped pressing her lips together and was biting her bottom lip hard enough to make it red.

Theon almost tugged it out from between her teeth, but he realized how intimate that gesture was, and he shouldn’t. Not right now. She deserved more than him trying to grope her and be gross on a pier. She was scared. He wasn’t about to take advantage.

“The last time we were up this high, you pushed me,” she said softly.

“I’m not going to do that this time,” he replied, keeping his tone steady as she skidded to a halt.

“I didn’t mean to say that. I’m being… saying mean things to get you to want to leave.”

He smiled and stroked her hand with his thumb. “I’m not taking it personally, love.”

She looked out over the sea and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t go farther.”

“Would you if I led you?” he asked. “Close your eyes, and I’ll take you up to the railing.”

She visibly swallowed and shrugged. “Maybe,” she whispered.

“Close your eyes and put your arms out,” he said softly, moving around behind her and letting his hands slide down her arms. He stopped when his hands reached her elbows, though. “Alright walk. I’m here.”

Slowly, she moved towards the railing at the end of the pier.

It took a while, but when they got close, he moved her hands down so she could grab it. “Almost there, you should feel the rail now…”

She gripped it and he let his hands fall away.

“No, don’t go,” she said, her head turning even though her eyes were still closed. “Theon?”

“I’m here…” he stepped in close, hesitating for a moment.

“Remember when I said you’d have to hold more than my hands?” she reminded him, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, I remember.” He stepped in as close as he could, bumping her with the camera and reaching up to take it off his neck and hold it in his left hand as he wound his arms around her waist.

She smelled heavenly, and he tried very hard not to inhale. He didn’t want it to seem like he was sniffing her hair. No matter how much he wanted to.

“You feel as limp as a codfish,” she said. “If I were to fall, I’d just flop to my death.”

Sighing, he tightened his hold and hooked his chin over her shoulder. She was flush against his front and he was trying not to think about that. “Better?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Open your eyes.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not letting you go,” he promised, squeezing again. “See?”

“I know, but… what if you fall?”

He was silent for a moment, weighing his response. “Honestly? If I fall, you’ll have to make your peace with falling because I’ve got you held tight.”

She laughed, her shoulders jumping as she did. He turned and she opened her eyes. Both hands on the rail, her nails scraping against the wood.

“Do you want to back up?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re still scared, though.”

“Not as much as I was.”

“You’re shaking.”

“That’s from…” she trailed off. “That’s involuntary.”

“Okay,” he said simply. “Look out at the horizon.”

“It’s beautiful. I’m scared of what happens when you let me go,” she said, jumping right back in even though he was trying to distract her.

He chuckled softly. “I’m not going to let go.”

“One day, you will.”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head.

“You don’t know that.”

“About this I do.”

“You can’t possibly know that, Theon. We don’t even know what we’re going to be doing in the future.”

He was pretty sure he was correct in assuming that they weren’t talking about the pier anymore. It made a lump rise in his throat. “Sansa. I won’t let go. And I sure as fuck won’t push you ever again.”

He caught a twitch in her mouth and she nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response. She let one hand drop to cover his right hand, the contact made his breath catch.

“I have to confess,” Sansa continued, “I don’t see what the fuss was. I can see this view from my balcony.”

“Except you never go out there,” he reminded her.

“Maybe I will if you go out there with me,” she countered.

He leaned his head against hers. She tensed at first but relaxed into his touch. “I know you said it wasn’t a big deal, but I’m still sorry you had to miss your meeting.”

“I’m not sorry,” she said, grinning. She let go of the handrail and turned in his arms, putting her back to the ocean and facing him completely. She was still sort of shaky on her feet, so kept his hands on her waist, holding her tightly in place. She hooked one around his neck and his mouth went dry. The way she was looking at him.

Gods.

He could see stars in her eyes and there weren’t even any out.

It was the middle of the godsdamned day.

They just stood there for a long moment, neither moving, scarcely breathing as she gazed up at him and he lost himself in her eyes.

He was working up the courage to just lean down. To press his lips to hers. He still had the camera in his hand and he used that arm to hook around her waist and haul her just a little bit closer. It felt right, standing here like this with her.

She was stroking his forearms and arching to be closer to him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against her hip.

“Oh,” she said, stepping away from him.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically as he reached for the phone. He was prepared to cut whoever had just called out of his life for interrupting.

Interrupting the nothing because he wasn’t going to make a move, and he knew it.

He sighed when he saw the name on the screen.

Yara.

“My sister,” he said to Sansa. Closing his eyes, he answered the call and slipped the camera over his head again. He held out the other hand to Sansa and they began to walk up the pier. “Hello?”

“About time,” His sister groused. “Thought you were dead.”

Theon rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“I don’t either,” she countered. “You never took the time to phone me when you got out. For all I know, you died and they could be holding your emaciated body for me to come claim.”

“Would you have answered? If I had phoned?” he asked as he and Sansa slowly walked down the pier back to the boardwalk.

“Eh… probably not.” He could hear the smile in her voice, though. He hadn’t realized it until then, but he missed his sister.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“A little,” he replied.

“Doing what? Where are you staying?”

“Sansa Stark’s.”

“Which question was that answering?” she teased.

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head as he replied. “The second.”

“Oh well. That’s boring.”

“I’m in recovery,” he stated.

“So? Doesn’t mean you can’t get laid.”

It almost tasted sour, those words in regards to Sansa. “That’s exactly what it means.”

“Ugh,” Yara said with a sniff. “So can I come to see you?”

“Hold on,” he said, muting the call and turning to Sansa. “My sister… she wants to see me. If you don’t want her to come over to yours, I completely understand, I can—“

“Yara can come over,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How about tonight?”

Tonight? Tonight felt soon. Even though it had been months since he’d seen Yara. Still felt like he was good for the foreseeable future. But Sansa had said. And Yara was asking.

He brought the phone back to his ear to hear Yara still talking.

“Blimey, do you not listen to a word I say?” Theon asked.

“You weren’t saying nothing,” she countered. “Nothing to listen to.”

“Because I was talking to…I put you on mute so I could talk to Sansa…”

“Oh, lah dee dah, put me on mute for Sansa,” she said in a voice that very much made him want to reach through the mobile and smack her. But he couldn’t do that. The laws of physics prohibited it. That and he wouldn’t hit his own sister.

But mostly the physics thing.

“Anyway, are you free tonight?” he asked.

“Tonight? Let me just check my schedule, sir…” Her tone had shifted into a very posh one. “Let me see if I have time for my dear brother tonight.”

“ _Yara_.”

“Of course I fucking do. Why d’you think I asked?”

“Alright well, you can come round to Sansa’s. I’ll cook.”

“You’ll cook? Do you…do that?”

Theon sighed. “Yes. You remember.”

“Are you doing a fry-up for dinner? Because if you are, I’ll wear stretchy trousers.”

“Is that what you want me to prepare for dinner?” he asked.

“Cor, rehab’s made you too agreeable? Or is it that icy hot pus—“

“Tonight at seven?” he asked. “Do you need the address?”

She was silent for a moment, likely trying to read the situation. “That works. And yes, I do.”

“I’ll text you soon,” he said in a very clipped tone. “See you tonight, Yara.”

“And you, Theon. And Sansa too.”

“Sansa too,” he echoed, ending the call and looking back to the woman in question.

“Your sister’s coming for dinner,” she said, and Theon wanted to reach out and hug her for not being weird about this. His sister was a lot. Seven hells, his surviving family was more than a lot. His father was awful to everyone, and his uncle was a degenerate. And then there was him. It was saying something that Yara was the most accomplished out of all of them.

Complete with her potty mouth and poor social habits.

“You’re certain it’s alright if she comes over?”

“Theon. You’ve put up with Arya.”

He chuckled at that. “Yara’s no Arya.”

“Too right. There’s no one quite like Arya, is there?” she grinned and slipped her hand between his elbow and his side. “Come, let’s go back to the car. Need to stop at the shops on the way home?”

“Probably. She wants a fry-up.”

Sansa laughed. “You know, you’ve been living with me for over a month and I’ve still never had one.”

“You never said you wanted one,” he countered.

“I know, but you were the one providing the service, so I thought making requests wasn’t the polite way to be.”

“Polite,” he scoffed. “I’d make you whatever you wanted, you have to know that.”

She was quiet for a split second. Not long, just long enough for him to start to panic over what he’d said.

“I didn’t know that…” she began. “I’ll have to use my power wisely, won’t I?”

He laughed and she sped up her pace. “Come, let’s go to the shops.”

They drove to the shops nearer the shore than the ones nearer to her flat. It meant they could shoot a straight stretch back to her building, but he wasn’t used to this particular shop. He was able to find everything he needed, however.

Once they’d bought everything, he went ahead and got the car door for her, grinning as he pulled it open. She met his gaze. “Thank you, Theon.”

“No problem at all,” he said, watching to make sure she got in alright. The entire time, a torrent of questions swirled.

What was he doing?

What he wanted, that much was clear.

Why was he doing it?”

That didn’t have as clear-cut of an answer. He still wasn’t better. Well, he was. He’d successfully mitigated a craving today. Well, he had done with Sansa’s help, but he sort of figured he’d have done it himself if left to his own devices. But before he could stop her, she’d canceled her meeting, so he couldn’t let her _not_ help him, could he?

She took two of the bags from him as they got out of the car and stepped into the elevator. The ride up to her floor was silent, sort of punctuated with furtive looks and a giggle from her that made him blush and wish he had gone ahead with kissing her at the shore. He wished he had the courage not to blame it on his sister’s phone call that he hadn’t.

They put the groceries away and Sansa perched on one of the stools by the counter while he made sure there wasn’t anything he’d need to start up sooner rather than later. He had sausage and black pudding, both of which were favourites in his home, and judging by the look Sansa gave the package of black pudding, that wasn’t the case in hers.

“I don’t have to eat the pudding, do I?’

“If you want your dessert, you will.”

“Don’t want dessert, then,’ she said, even though she was smiling the whole time.

“You don’t even what to know what it is?”

“Doesn’t matter, it won’t tempt me to try black pudding.”

He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and uncapped it, taking a sip and placing it on the counter. He leaned over on his elbows. “You sure about that?”

“It isn’t crepes is it?”

It wasn’t going to be, but the way she said that made him want to change course completely.

“And if I said it was?”

“I’d call your bluff. We don’t have any fruit.”

“We have Nutella.”

Her eyes widened. “Nutella, you say?”

“Mmm,” he hummed in reply, and she sighed. “I’ll take a single bite. For Nutella crepes.”

“Oy, Sansa, you’re an adult. You can have anything you want.”

“Not everything,” she said with a laugh.

“Yeah, everything,” he said, meeting her gaze.

“Not _everything_ ,” she repeated.

He blinked, panic rising in his chest, not completely alone. There was something else there too. Excitement. Arousal perhaps. But he’d read into anything. He hadn’t done… there wasn’t anyone from before, hadn’t been for a long while before he’d gone to rehab, and now…

Now he was turning into a randy bastard because his friend was being nice to him.

A nice sort of guest he was.

He pushed up from the counter. “I’m sure you can have anything you want, Sans. Last time I checked, this was your flat.” He turned and pulled out his phone to text Yara the address. It was fifteen after six and she’d likely want to know where she was going.

She texted him back immediately, but he didn’t look at the screen.

“Theon?” Sansa said, her voice sounding quiet and timid.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up from the screen.

“Did I say something wrong?”

His heart felt as if it could burst at that moment. Bloody and raw all over the countertop and the floor. And it still wouldn’t make him feel better for yanking her around. “Nothing at all, Sans.”

“Okay…” she said, not sounding like she believed him for a minute.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just still out of sorts from before, and now my sister—“

“Oh… I shouldn’t have said tonight, Should I?”

“What?”

“It’s too soon? Too much for today? I didn’t even think about it. I constantly forget you’re in recovery still, and I’m sorry…”

“No, no, it’s fine. Truly. I should have seen my sister before now. It’s fine.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, getting up from the stool, but staying with the countertop safely between them.

“Positive,” he said, smiling. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

_Not ever._

“Okay…” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ll go get changed for dinner.”

“Don’t put forth too much of an effort. She’s likely going to wax poetic about the bidet.”

“At least someone will,” Sansa said, grinning as she ducked into her bedroom.

Theon watched her walk away. He was doing this all wrong. He didn’t even have to know what he was doing to know it was all wrong.

He needed to figure it out though. And soon.


	6. Sansa III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay, chapter 6!
> 
> Cersei-bitchery at the beginning. Ughhhhhh, amiright?
> 
> There is some very heavy flirting at the end of this, but it's also drunk flirting, so please be forewarned if that's not your thing! Theon is very respectful. 
> 
> We do get some pining on Sansa's part in this chapter as well!
> 
> Also Yara and Arya! The snark level is TOO DAMN HIGH, y'all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks once again to my lovely beta, treaddelicately. <3 <3 <3 thank you for looking this over, BB!

“Okay, but… what specifically is the issue? Perhaps I can just make a few adjustments…” Sansa offered. She was about forty minutes into the worst video meeting of her life, with Cersei Lannister, no less. Sansa never got a warm or fuzzy feeling from her, but the other woman had just spent the entire call tearing down all the designs she’d meticulously created in the past six months. 

“Ms. Stark,” Cersei replied primly. “I often find that starting over from scratch is the best way to fix a problem. Because you don’t fall into the same ruts that caused the problem to begin with.” 

_She’s going to boost your brand. Jumpstart it. Take a deep breath, Sansa._

She smiled widely, hopefully not belying her true feelings.“Of course. That’s a wonderful strategy, Ms. Lannister.” 

_Of course, I can just remake six months of work. That’s something I can do. No problem._

“I’m glad you think so. I look forward to seeing your new designs in two weeks.” 

Sansa ended the call and sneered at the phone, making sure it had truly ended before she snarked at it. “I look forward to seeing your new designs,” she mimicked, tossing the phone down on the sofa beside her. 

She propped her knees up and ripped the pages off the pad in front of her, placing them on the coffee table and also on the cushions next to her. 

While Cersei hadn’t explicitly said so, Sansa couldn’t help but think this was payback for rescheduling their meeting, and that Cersei would have loved her designs if Sansa hadn’t canceled that day last week. 

Of course, having met the woman before, the very idea that she could love anything that wasn’t her own reflection in the mirror was laughable. 

She heard Theon approaching, and turned to face him, pulling her knees up on the sofa and folding her forearms to lay her head upon as she implored him with her eyes to bring her something from the fridge if he was going there. 

Theon opened the fridge and pulled out one of her iced hibiscus teas and brought it to her. He got a bottle of water for himself. “Here. What’d she say?” 

Sansa gestured to the drawings behind her. “She wants new designs. Won’t tell me what’s wrong with these, other than she hates them. And wants all new ones. As if I didn’t work my fingers to the bone getting these ready. But sure, I’ll do all new ones in two weeks.” She sighed and let her head hit the back of the sofa. “Well, there goes lunch with Arya.” 

“Sorry, Sans…” Theon honestly did look sorry. “I feel like it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not your fault because that woman is constantly sitting on a sharp prick,” Sansa muttered under her breath. 

Theon snorted. “There’s an image.” 

“Not far from the truth, I’d wager,” she said as she picked up one of the drawings. “I rather liked this one.” 

“So save it for later. After your brand’s gained some traction, you won’t need her, and you can sell what you want.” 

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Good idea.” 

“Anytime. I have so many ideas, one or two of them are bound to be good ones.” 

“Ugh…” she groaned. “I have to ring Arya and reschedule. Any ideas for how to finagle that one?” 

He sucked his teeth, “Nope, sorry. You’re on your own for that.” 

She snorted and picked up her phone again, bringing up Arya’s number so she could text her. 

_“Hey how about dinner instead?”_

She wasn’t expecting that to work, but perhaps she’d caught Arya at a good moment, like with her hands down Gendry’s pants and she’d do anything to get her to shut up. Also, she had a plan. Sort of. It was an improvised one, but hopefully, it’d work nonetheless. 

Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at the banner that appeared. 

_“You’re not ghosting me, Sansa Stark.”_

Sansa sighed, before texting back. _“I’m not ghosting you, you daft cow. I had something come up.”_

_“What could be more important than having lunch with your favourite sister?”_

_“First off, I’m your only sister,”_ she began. _“And secondly, I need to touch up some drawings for Cersei.”_

_“Okay but, Jon could be my favourite sister. He’s not. It’s you, but he could be. And secondly…”_ The next message was a vomit emoji. 

_“I know, but I need to work on them while I’m fired up, otherwise, I’ll just give her slight recolours from the originals.”_

_“Fine,”_ Arya replied. _“But fuck supper, let’s have drinks later instead.”_

_“Sounds perfect,”_ Sansa replied. 

Going for drinks was what she _actually_ wanted to do, so this all had worked out swimmingly. 

_“See you at eight?”_ Arya asked. 

Sansa sent a ‘thumbs up’ emoji and dropped her phone again. “There.” 

“How’d she take it?” Theon asked. 

Sansa shrugged. “About as well as expected. We’re having drinks now.” 

“Oh! Nice.” Theon leaned forward, tapping the lid of her hibiscus tea before he stood. “Speaking of, drink that, Sans. I haven’t seen you eat or drink anything in hours.” 

“Fine…” She reached for the drink and popped the top, taking a long sip. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Yara’s coming by to drop off my keys.” 

“Ooo, so you’ll have a car?” she said excitedly. She remembered Theon’s car. He’d had a T-Top in high school, but he’d traded up for a much classier car after he’d graduated. It was sort of an inspiration for the car she owned now, now that she was thinking about it. “Don’t forget that parking placard I got for you. It’s hanging from the key rack by the door. Your car, it’s still the green one, right?” 

“I won’t forget, and yeah, I might fix it and trade it in for something a bit smaller eventually, but it’ll do for now. After I’ve reactivated the registry and the insurance. But I have plans to go do both this afternoon.” 

“Oh, I hope you don’t,” Sansa said. “I love that car.” 

“The green one?” he asked. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It’s what inspired me to get mine.” 

“Your current one?” he asked, still sounding like he didn’t believe her. 

“Yes,” she insisted. 

“Why?” he asked, laughing. 

“Because… always liked yours, I dunno, gods.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but I didn’t know you even saw my car at all. Didn’t hang out with Robb as much.” 

“No, but when you first got it, you did.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I just never knew anything I did influence you.” 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I already told you about this, stop compliment fishing, Greyjoy. Thought you were painfully cool when I was younger.” 

“Painfully, huh?” He grinned and she shoved his shoulder, causing him to spill his water on his t-shirt. 

“Shit, sorry…” she grimaced, and he replaced the lid and stood, handing the bottle to her and turning to leave. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll dry. I’ll be right back.” He peeled the shirt up and over his head and Sansa had to quickly turn around so she didn’t ogle her roommate. He had a nice back. Which wasn’t something she’d ever looked at in her life, but Theon was all lean muscle everywhere, and she sort of wanted to run her fingers over his skin and see how he tensed up. 

Exhaling, she reached for her tea and took another sip, replacing the cap because she had an idea for a man’s suit. Never mind that it was the same colour as Theon’s car. 

She licked the end of her pencil and set to work. 

She still needed to upload all the other drawings onto her tablet for the final touches, but the rough drafts and figures were all done freehand. She liked the feel of the pencil in her hand for the originals. But additions and such were much easier to adapt to a tablet program. 

Theon returned with a new t-shirt and sat on the end of the sofa while she worked. She was vaguely aware of him playing with his phone, but he wasn’t being noisy, and it was almost calming having him there while she drew rough outlines onto the page. 

She wasn’t certain how long she sat there, but the next time she started to pay attention, Theon was talking on the phone and giving the apartment number to someone, so she placed her work on the coffee table and reached for the tea, now room temperature. She took a long sip and stretched, groaning as her back creaked. 

“Who’s that on the phone?” she asked, yawning. 

“Oh, it’s Yara,” he said, sounding as if he’d already said it and she just hadn’t remembered or something. “She’s dropping off my car? She forgot the apartment number, so I had to give it to her again.” 

“Right, you said that before,” Sansa said, taking a long sip from the bottle of tea before moving out to the kitchen for a quick nosh before she set back to work on the new designs. 

She rather liked them. Perhaps Cersei’s strategy was a thing after all. Not that she’d ever really admit that to anyone. These designs had been in her head all along, this was just the push she needed to get them out for everyone to see. 

“Yara’s gonna come in for a mo, is that alright?” Theon asked. 

“Theon. You live here. And she’s your sister.” 

“I know, but—“ 

“And we got along well last week when she came for dinner.” 

“I know, I just—“ 

“Stop apologising for being alive, Theon. I’m rather partial to you. And that includes everything that comes along with you.” 

He smiled and Sansa tilted her head. He seemed to do that more often nowadays. She rather liked it and would do or say anything just to see a glimpse. 

“I’m rather partial to you, too, Sansa.” She wasn’t sure why, but the declaration coming from him felt like it meant something. 

She felt her cheeks flush hot and she ducked into the fridge to counteract the effect his kind words always seemed to have on her. 

He’d been laying them on rather thick the week before, and she’d almost thought that perhaps something else would come out of it. Especially given how tenderly he held her when they were standing on that pier. 

And while it was true that he had been holding her, she almost felt as if she could stand there alone. By herself. Just with the thought that he wanted to be there. Supporting her from afar or from up close. 

Although, she’d rather liked the way his arms felt around her. The muscles in his forearms felt solid when she ran her hands over them, and his biceps flexed around her quite a bit, making her feel as if she were encased on all sides by a wall of Theon. A wall that wouldn’t allow anything to break through and harm her. 

And then she’d spun in his arms to face him. And he hadn’t moved away. 

It was a heady feeling, being held by him up so high. And she still wasn’t completely over her fear of heights. She still didn’t care for her balcony, but she had a sneaking suspicion she was just not a fan of balconies in general, but that was beside the point. 

The point being that Theon had almost kissed her. And she was going to let him. Seven hells, she’d let him _now_. In fact, she’d entertained a rather elaborate fantasy that he’d burst through the door to her room one night and climb into bed with her. Press her down against the mattress, maybe hold her down with those lovely arms of his and kiss her properly. With tongue and teeth and heart. 

And after he’d kissed her, she’d imagined he’d slip down beneath the covers and... Well… her hands sort of took care of the rest, but she’d promptly jumped into the shower afterward and stared at the wall, the Divinyls playing on her shower speakers in the most apropos shuffle incident ever. 

There hadn’t been a repeat of that particular fantasy, but she’d been rather stressed out by the idea of a video conference with Cersei, and with good reason, it seemed. 

“Do you want me to make something for you?” he asked. 

“What?” Sansa asked, blinking slightly. 

“Just because you’re standing there holding the door open. I can make you a sandwich or something if you’d like?” 

“I…” she began. “I… I can do it.” 

“Okay,” he said. “Might want to before you freeze the entire flat, then.” 

She rolled her eyes and reached into the drawer for the container of roasted turkey. There was cheese as well. And lettuce. And mayonnaise. 

She pulled all of it out and busied herself with the sandwich. She’d only just gotten the thing made when the doorbell rang and Theon went down the hall to answer it. 

She heard Yara’s voice and Theon holding the door open, the sunlight casting a long strip of light down the hall that just ended at the place where the hall opened up into the kitchen. 

“You’re not gonna keep me from my new sister, Theon,” Yara called. “I won’t stay long anyway.” 

Sansa had to smile. Yara was so loud. And even though pretty much everything she said made Theon cringe, Sansa liked her. 

Yara came down the hall. “Oy there, Sansa! Lovely day, innit?” 

“It is indeed,” she began, taking a knife to cut her sandwich. “And here I am stuck inside redrawing all those designs…” 

“The ones you were gonna show that Lion-faced bitch?” Yara asked. 

Sansa chuckled. “The very same.” 

“She wanted all new ones, didn’t she?” Yara asked, smiling a bit. “Ya, that’s a power move, that.” 

“It’s a bitch move is what it is,” Sansa grumbled. 

Yara cackled. “Aye, it’s that as well. But that’s how a woman came to own a business like the one she has. Especially in that family full of men.” 

Sansa sighed. “I suppose it’s just as well. I’m doing decent work. And you? How’s your day been?” 

“Well, I’ve been running all over the seven hells to find someone to run an official inspection for this car before he has to go up and renew the registration.” 

“Theon, you should have just called Gendry,” Sansa said. “He’s out of the shop today, but he’d have known someone.” 

“See, where were you four hours ago?” Yara asked, leaning back against the counter. “The things I do for this one. And he doesn’t even appreciate it, do you, little brother?” 

Theon sighed and spun the keys around his finger. “You found someone?” 

“Aye. And now I need a drink or seven to drown my sorrows. Flea Bottom’s a right scary place when you’re crawling underneath the surface.” 

“Flea Bottom’s not pleasant sunny side up either,” Sansa said. “But a drink, I could help with… Arya and I are going out tonight. You should join us.” 

Her phone rang on the countertop near her hand and she grabbed it, peering at the screen. Arya. “Think about it,” she said, pulling the phone up to her ear. “Yeah? Don’t tell me you’re ghosting _me_ now.” 

“Not in the slightest, Auntie.” 

“Auntie?” Sansa replied, frowning, and stepping away from the kitchen. “What do you m— OH MY GODS! SHE’S HAVING HIM?” 

“SHE’S HAVING HIM!” Arya yelped in reply. “Gods be praised, she’s been in labour for four hours yet. Robb’s just told me.” 

“Oy, The Mother be praised.” Sansa turned to the other two in the kitchen. “Marg’s in labour!” 

“Marg?” Yara said, wrinkling her nose in confusion, but Theon started talking, likely cluing her in. 

“So we’ll have more to celebrate tonight, then?” asked Sansa. 

“Can’t be vodka aunts without the vodka,” Arya said. “Still see you at eight?” 

“At eight, I also invited Yara, hope that’s okay. Not sure if she’s gonna—“ 

“Aye, I’ll come,” Yara called. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s coming,” Sansa said. 

“Yara? That Theon’s sister?” 

“Yeah.”’ 

“She’s cool, that’s fine. See you at eight, Auntie.” 

“And you as well, Auntie.” 

“I’m not Auntie. That kid’s gonna call me Arya and nothing else.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Whatever, see you then.” 

She ended the call and turned back to the others. She clapped and squealed. “I’m gonna be an Auntie.” 

“Congratulations, can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure,” Yara said, glancing over at Theon. 

He rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that ship’s set sail.” 

“Don’t be so sure. I assume your dick still works?” Yara said, winking. 

Theon didn’t answer and instead went to the fridge to pull out another bottle of water. It appeared he’d finished the one that Sansa had knocked all over him. “So if you’re going out with Sansa tonight, we should get out and go to this mechanic you’ve procured for me.” 

“Yep, let’s get going. I’ll meet you here at half seven, Sansa?” Yara asked, pointing at Sansa questioningly. 

“Yep, that’s perfect. We’re going to Arya’s favourite place. It’s over near Cobbler’s square.” 

“Got it, can’t wait.” Yara sounded sort of blank when she said it, but she smiled and Sansa smiled back, shooting Theon a questioning look before he shrugged and twirled the keys. “Be back soon, Sansa.” 

“Alright, see you then.” 

Sansa grabbed her sandwich and brought it to the sofa with her, eating it between sketching bits of the designs. She only got mayonnaise on the paper once, but it was only a bit and she was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter one way or the other in the final draft. 

Theon and Yara returned once the sun had begun to go down, with Theon grinning from ear to ear and hanging his car keys on the hook by the front door beside Sansa’s. 

“Did you hang that placard in your rear mirror like I said?” she asked. 

“Yep, I have it up there. Not getting towed.” 

“Perfect.” 

She was gathering up her drawings and carrying them back to her room when Yara grabbed one on top and peered at it. “That’s hot.” 

“You think so?” she asked, looking at it with her. “I wasn’t sure if it was or if it was too high-waisted.” 

“No, that’s fucking hot. Going for the female gaze there, Sansa?” Yara winked and she shrugged. 

“I guess? I just thought it looked nice?” 

“You’re actually quite talented,” Yara said, sounding a bit more surprised than what Sansa considered polite, but this was _Yara_ she was talking to. “And here I thought it was just make-up for you.” 

“Very little of what I do is makeup, but it is what I’m most known for,” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes. “Speaking of, I need to go put some on for tonight.” 

Taking the drawing back from Yara, she stacked it with the others, depositing them on the bed so she could go finish getting ready. 

She went heavy on the eyeliner and even put on a pair of false eyelashes to make her eyes pop. Arya always groaned when she did this because she got so many free drinks and it ‘wasn’t fair’. 

Sansa usually spent the night eyeing the entire bar and wondering where they came from because someone could slip a roofie inside as they walked by. So she agreed that it wasn’t fair, but not for the same reasons. 

She felt a bit safer with both Yara and Arya there tonight. Even if she was surprised that Yara wanted to come at all. 

Once she was finished with her make-up, she changed into something with fewer charcoal stains and showed a bit more leg. 

It might have been a bit too much leg because Theon’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when she left her bedroom. And Yara was laughing, pushing him bodily away from her. “Gross. Keep your eye-fucking to yourself.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yara, I swear to the fucking Drowning God...” 

Sansa looked between them. “Should I change? It’s bad?” 

“No,” Theon said quickly. A bit too quickly to have been nonchalant. They both stared at him and he followed with. “You look fine, is all I meant.” 

Yara sighed and shook her head. “You’d better not. You’re likely to knock everyone over with a feather tonight. If your skirt gets any shorter, they may just drop dead.” 

“Well, I wasn’t about to go shorter,” Sansa said with a laugh, reaching up to pull the clip from her hair and let it tumble down her shoulders. She reached up to fluff the back with her hand. “So we should go then?” 

“Are we driving or are you calling an Uber?” Yara asked. 

Sansa paused for a moment. She supposed an Uber would be more responsible, but what about Yara? Was it rude to force her to take a minimum of two Ubers as well? 

“I don’t mind taking my own ride home,” Yara said as if reading her mind. “Come on, we should head out if we’re going to meet that sister of yours.” 

Sansa pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber, which the app told her would be about twenty minutes. So, about the time for them to get downstairs and outside the gate where the driver would likely park and wait. 

“You gonna be alright here?” she asked Theon. “Did you wanna come too?” She hadn’t thought about inviting him before that moment, but now that she was, she felt sheepish for having forgotten him. 

He shook his head immediately. “No, no, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You lot go out and have fun, alright?” 

“Alright,” she said, smiling as she held her handbag in front of her. “Do you mind taking a quick picture of my outfit?” She grinned widely to ask him nicely, and he smiled in that crooked way of his while his sister sighed heavily. 

“Take a good one, Theon, I’m ready to go,” Yara said, smirking good-naturedly at Sansa. 

“Stand over by the window,” Theon said, gesturing to the sliding doors. “Open the blinds, the skyline’s behind you…” 

He flipped on a few lights and turned them towards her quickly, holding her phone in one hand and reaching out to rearrange her hair over one shoulder. 

“Should I smile, or…” she asked. 

He shook his head. “Nah, just try not to look bored.” 

She giggled nervously and he snapped the picture. “Really, no laughing, Sans,” he said sternly. “You’ve got the giggles already, have you?” 

“You’re the one,” she protested, mid-laugh as he snapped a few more. She shot him a look and he took a picture of that too. 

“There,” he said with a cheeky grin. “One of those might work.” 

She snatched the phone from him and the smile fell from her face as she took in the shots he’d left on her camera roll. Four of them. Each one was better than the one before it. “All of these are good,” she countered, looking back at him and down at the camera. Back and forth. “Which one should I pick?” 

“You’re the influencer,” he said with a shrug. “If I were choosing my favourite, it’d be the second one. But if I put on my marketing brain, the fourth one where you’re not smiling.” 

She pursed her lips to hide a smile and nodded, choosing that one and adding a quick caption of “Can’t be a vodka aunt without the vodka! Out with @shortyandfiercey to celebrate! #Vodkaauntie” Tagging Arya was a toss-up, she’d probably reject the tag, but it was what it was. Perhaps she’d keep it long enough to tell everyone that Sansa had stolen her line. It didn’t matter. “We’re running late, we should go!” she quickly texted the Uber driver to make sure he wouldn’t leave them there. 

“Oy finally,” Yara groaned as they left. “You two gonna kiss goodbye?” she asked, grinning in a way that made Sansa blush furiously, but not as much as Theon. 

“Yara, shut your mouth, it’s grown too big for your face,” he said stiffly before turning to Sansa. “Have a good time.” 

“You too, don’t get too bored.” 

He shrugged and shook his head. “No such thing. I’ll be fine. Have fun.” 

Yara and Sansa stood in the lift and Yara glanced over at her. “As much guff as I give you, you shine up nice, Red.” 

“Thanks,” Sansa said, smiling a little because being flirted with by a Greyjoy was nice no matter which one it was. Or how serious it was. 

The Uber driver apparently had been waiting five minutes by the time they got there, but Sansa apologised and resolved to tip very generously. Well, she always tipped generously, but this would be generous for HER, which was very generous indeed. 

They rode in relative silence, Arya on her phone and Sansa staring out the window and humming along to the music their driver had on the radio. 

She’d had to look up the address to this place when Arya gave it to her because she’d never been there. It took nearly twenty minutes to get there, even though it was only a few streets over. 

When they finally pulled up outside, she gave the driver a grin and had her phone out adjusting her usual tip as she and Yara stepped out onto the sidewalk. 

Arya appeared out of nowhere, practically leaping on Sansa’s back despite the heels Sansa was wearing. “Oy, Yara!” she whooped. “Sans, go get us inside. Mush.” 

Sansa sighed. “I thought you said you knew this place.” 

“I said I know _a_ place. Not that I knew _the_ place.” Sansa peered up at the head of the line, hooking her arms around Arya’s legs like they used to do when they were younger. “Will they know who I am or am I making a fool of myself?” 

Arya slipped off her back and reached for the front of Sansa’s blouse. “They know who you are. Just like… tug this down a bit.” She tugged it down to reveal the tops of her breasts and a bit of cleavage as well. Then, clearly unsatisfied, she tugged it off one shoulder and stood back. “Pout your lips.” 

“Stop,” Sansa swatted her away. “Come on.” 

“What, so her magical face will get us in based on—“ Yara began, and before she’d even had a chance to finish, the bouncer’s face had lifted significantly. 

“Sansa Stark!” he called. “My girlfriend loves you.” 

Smiling with a face that she one-hundred percent used only for social media, she replied in what she hoped was a bright voice. “Awww, what’s her Insta? I’ll give her a shoutout?” 

“Stuff that, give _me_ a shoutout,” he said with a grin. 

“Oo, you wanna do a...?” she asked, gesturing between him and his phone. Would he like a selfie, even though she rarely ever did these. Usually just to get into places like this. 

“Oy would I!” He slipped an arm around her shoulder and Sansa grinned into the camera, turning her head slightly to catch her better side. He snapped the picture and grinned even more widely. 

“Tag me in that,” Sansa said. “I’ll comment. And also apologise to your girlfriend.” She winked. 

He grinned and stepped aside. “You and your friends don’t need to bother with the cover charge, here…” He stamped their hands with a special stamp and sent them in. 

“Holy fucking hells,” Yara said, sounding amazed as they walked through the corridor to the coat check room. 

“Right? She’s like a master key. She can get you in anywhere.” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I don’t like using my powers all the time, no matter what Arya wants.” 

“Oh come off it, you know you are curious about this place.” 

She wasn’t wrong. Sansa had been sort of intrigued ever since Arya had sent her the name. It looked like a little theme club, but Sansa supposed she could be wrong. 

And as they stepped into the main bar, the floor glowed as they stepped on the tiles. When she glanced around, she could see the entire place was themed like an arcade. But a high-end arcade. 

“Okay, this might be cool.” 

“Is that Galaga they’re playing on the tables?” Yara asked. 

“I think so…” 

“Where do we sit?” Arya asked. 

“Anywhere,” a server dressed in what appeared to be a corsetted tutu made of LED lights and tubes. “Looks like Ms. Pacman is open, ladies.” 

Without looking like they wanted to run, they booked it to the Ms. Pacman table. 

“Is Ms. Pacman married? “ Sansa asked aloud. “She goes by Ms. So there’s no real way to figure it out, is there? 

“She’s either married to Pacman, or she’s his unmarried sister,” Arya replied. 

“That definitely tracks with my belief that the Miz plays for my team,” Yara said with a smirk. 

Sansa grinned. “I like that belief. I’ll ascribe to it.” 

“Ms. Pacman is Birdo’s partner,” Arya declared, and the other two agreed. The center of the table was a monitor built into the middle. The sides had buttons and knobs like an old school arcade game and it appeared to turn to face the one who was playing. Arya was player one, but she hadn’t started her game yet. 

One of the LED-tutu-clad servers came up to the table and stood on one end. “Hi there, ladies, what can I get you?” 

“Shots!” Arya said, pounding the table lightly and accidentally starting her game. “Oy, fuck, order for us, Sansa.” 

“I don’t know— do you have flavoured vodka?” 

“Indeed we do, it’s our specialty. Would you like a menu, or would you rather just a tasting tray?” 

“Of vodka?” Yara coughed. “I’m gonna have to roll you two out of here, aren’t I?” 

“What are you talking about? I can hold my drink,” Arya argued. 

“No offense, half-pint, but you’re a wee little thing. I would be very surprised if you could,” Yara teased. 

“She can’t,” Sansa agreed. “I’m decent, but she’s not. And that tasting tray sounds lovely.” She addressed that last bit to the server, who grinned and promised to be back with it soon. 

“Ha, that’s the laugh of the century,” Arya said after a few moments, only half paying attention because she was currently enthralled with her game. 

“What is?” Yara asked. 

“Sansa being decent at holding her drink. She gets giggly and lovey-dovey. She’d make out with anyone once she gets in her cups.” 

“Oy, watch your tongue, you wee shite,” Sansa kicked her under the table. 

“I find it doubly hilarious that I could lay both of you out on your arses and the best you can do is call me a wee one, “Arya said. “And besides, I wasn’t calling you slutty.” She paused for a beat. “Okay, so I’m calling you respectably slutty. And that’s a compliment. I can only aspire to respectably slutty. As it is, I’m a bit of cold fish and I want to fight everyone when I’m three sheets so that certainly doesn’t help me garner favour with anyone.” 

“That’d work with me,” Yara shrugged. 

Arya smirked but didn’t look up from the game. 

“ _Gendry_ certainly seems to like it,” Sansa teased. 

Arya rolled her eyes and kicked her leg over at Sansa, but they were too short to reach her, so she had to sink in the booth to even nick her leg with the toe of her boot. 

“Gendry, that’s your car bloke, yeah?” Yara asked, turning to Sansa. 

“Yeah, that’s him. He fixes cars. Loves my sister. He’s one of a kind, that one.” 

“Damn straight,” Arya said with a grin. 

The server arrived just then, balancing a positively enormous tray of vodka shots of varying colours. It smelled almost like skittles when she set it down. “They’re marked underneath with the flavours. These aren’t full shots, so let me know if there’s something you’d like more of.” 

Yara frowned and reached for one of the clear ones. “What’s this…” she squinted at the writing on the tray and put it back down. “Candy Floss. Nope.” 

“You want something a bit harder, Yara?” Arya asked, reaching for a fluorescent lime one and knocking it back. “Woo!” she barked. “That was kiwi-flavoured.” 

“I don’t care one way or the other, but candy floss will revisit me and I’m not sure I’d even like it on first meeting.” Yara chose a purple one instead and sucked it back. “Oh. Blackberry, I believe…” She peered down at the tray. Blackberry Basil. Funny. Didn’t get the basil at all.” 

Sansa too peered down at the tray, drawn to a sandy pink one, figuring it was likely grapefruit or else some other tangy fruit. Sure enough, it was ruby red grapefruit, so she gleefully took the shot. It was bitter, but sweet at the same time. She liked it. It made her mouth pucker. 

Yara tapped on two of the mini-shots that were standing next to each other. “Try two at once. I just did, it was interesting.” 

“Oh fuck it all…’ Arya sighed as Ms. Pacman died on the screen. She nodded to Sansa. “Your turn.” 

Sansa had just taken the blueberry and the lemonade vodka shots together at Yara’s behest, so she was a bit foggy when she looked at the screen. She suspected she wouldn’t last long before it was Yara’s turn. 

She began her game, moving through the maze towards the blue dots. 

“Watch, the orange ghost,” Yara said, pointing to the screen. “On your six, mate.” 

Arya and Yara took to cheering her on, so she lasted a bit longer than she had thought she would. By the time it was Yara’s turn, she had to catch up on shots, so she took a cinnamon red-hot shot and then a vanilla chaser. 

She and Arya cheered Yara on, who was either bad on purpose, or perhaps she had had a bit more to drink than Sansa had realized. 

Before she knew it, it was Arya’s turn again, and Sansa was staring off into space in front of her. 

“Oy, so…” Yara said suddenly, and Sansa turned to face her. 

“Hmm?” 

“About my brother…” 

Sansa felt a smile spreading despite herself. “What about him?” 

Yara beamed as well when she saw Sansa’s face. “That’s what I thought. Just be certain you don’t hurt him, kay?” 

“What?” Sansa asked, frowning. “I wasn’t planning on it. He’s welcome to stay with me as long as possible. Or as long as he chooses.” She knew exactly what Yara meant, but she wasn’t about to admit to it. At least not without a fight. 

“Sansa….” Yara took another one of the tiny shots. “Sansa, Sansa, Sansa… You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, you know.” 

“Wasn’t trying to,” she replied primly. 

“Hey…” Yara set the shot back down on the tray. “I mean it. Don’t hurt him. He’s not invincible, you know.” 

“I know _that_ ,” Sansa said. “I know he’s not. That’s why I haven’t… I wasn’t planning on... I _wasn’t_.” 

“I’m not telling you not to. I’m only saying that if you do, don’t go into it blind. He’s not the type to open up to just anyone, and you two seem pretty close. If you do remain friends, I suspect you will be for a long time. If it moves onward from that, then you might be in for more than you realize is all I’m saying. He’s got a big heart, and it’s been stomped on a ton.” Yara shrugged and took another shot. “He’s got the potential. So don’t write him off if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“The only thing I’m worried about is him,” Sansa said. “And he’s in recovery.” 

“He’s always gonna be,” Yara replied. “Trust me on that. It’s a lifelong thing, so you can’t use that as an excuse forever.” 

“I’ll play off him, then,” Sansa said definitely. 

“Oh you lot will be here forever, then,” Yara chuckled. 

“Is that why you came along? Wanted to give me the shovel talk?” Sansa asked. 

“I could have given you that anytime,” Yara said. “I didn’t need to come to a posh arcade bar and wait until your sister’s too schnockered to realize she’s not actually playing Ms. Pacman because that’s the demo screen.” Sansa turned to look at Arya and almost laughed out loud. 

“Gods, Arya…” Sansa shook her head. 

“In a minute. I’m on a roll,” Arya mumbled. 

“So if not the shovel talk, then why’d you come? You’ve made it clear this isn’t your usual scene…” Sansa glanced around at the trendy bar. It looked too neon and shiny for Yara Greyjoy. 

Yara snorted at that. “If you must know. Theon asked me to come along.” 

“Theon?” Sansa asked, wholly surprised. 

“Excuse me, ma’am?” A server said timidly. “Just wanted to give you this cocktail from the gentleman at the bar. It’s our Sweettart cocktail.” She pushed a sickly pink drink in a cosmo glass. There was a sugared green candy stick propped inside it. 

“For me?” Sansa asked. 

“Aye. They wanted to send something to the ‘foxy ginger’,” said the server. 

Sansa gave a fake smile and pulled the drink towards her. “I’m not drinking this,” she said to Yara. 

“I know you’re not. But that’s the reason he wanted me to come along. To make sure you were alright and no one messed with you.” 

“I’m not sure whether to find that adorable or infuriating.” 

“It’s adorable,” Yara said. “He didn’t do it in a possessive sort of way. He did it because he was worried about you. Not that you can’t take care of yourself, but…” 

“But it’s creepy out here,” Sansa finished for her. 

“Precisely.” Yara looked pointedly at the cocktail. 

She sighed and pushed the drink away. “Give me that tray.” 

She and Yara laughed their way through a couple more mini-shots and by that time, Sansa was feeling so giggly that she was eying the Sweettart cocktail as an option, so Yara told her to settle the check and she’d get them an Uber. 

“What about you?” Sansa asked. “Want me to call one for you as well? My treat.” 

“Gendry’s place is on the way to where my houseboat is docked, so I’ll go with Arya.” 

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. 

“Who’re you calling?” 

“I’m calling Theon for you.” 

“No,” Sansa laughed. “Don’t. I can ride in an Uber.” 

“He’s got a car now. Let him be the knight in shining armor. Also if you puke in his interior, I will love you forever,” Yara assured her. 

“That’s a very real possibility,” Sansa said, nervously bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she burped softly. Smelled of that wretched candy floss perfume young girls liked to wear. 

“Oy, It’s Yara,” Yara said into the phone. She waited a few seconds. “She’s fine. Just needs a ride home. Come meet us up here and pick her up. I’m getting an uber with Arya the snoring drunk… oh yeah, out like a light.” Yara glanced over at Sansa and away again. “I told you, she looks fine. I don’t think she’ll ralph in your car… Alright then, stop asking questions and get up here. I’ll text you the address.” 

She hung up and glanced at the logo on the table to get the address, which she presumably texted to Theon. 

“I can just get an Uber,” Sansa said again. 

“Not by yourself, darling,” Yara said with a wink. “Theon doesn’t mind. Drinking was never his thing anyway.” 

“I never said that,” Sansa said, bringing her hands up to her face, which had grown rather red and hot as of late. “I just…” 

“Oh, you’re disgustingly adorable, Sansa, do shut up,” Arya groaned from where she had her head down on the table. 

Sansa squawked indignantly. “I didn’t ask!” 

“You did, come off it. He thinks you hung the damn moon anyway, he’ll probably find you so tooth-rottingly precious that he’ll lock this away as one of his favourite memories of you or something. Gods, you’re nauseating. Being such a fucking cute drunk.” 

“Sorry I’m not disgusting,” Sansa said with a huff. 

“Me too,” Arya groused. “It’d be more fitting. I wish I could hold my…” she paused for a moment, swallowing thickly. “Right, some water, then?” 

Yara chuckled and raised her hand. The server came over and Yara smiled at her and asked for three glasses of water and the server’s number if she was giving it out. 

The server giggled, and Sansa watched her scribble something down on a scrap of paper and slide it to Yara. “I’ll be right back with those waters.” 

“Thanks, love,” Yara replied. 

“How the fuck do you do that?” Sansa asked. “You Greyjoys are just—“ 

“So _dreamy_?” Arya teased. 

“Shut up, no. I mean… not no. I mean you’re so bloody charismatic.” 

“We gotta be,” Yara said. “To take away from the only place the Drowned God hasn’t blessed us.” She waved her hand vaguely over her face and Sansa was very quick to defend Yara’s good looks. 

“Oh shush, you look lovely,” Sansa sighed. 

_Yara’s_ good looks. 

Not Theon’s. Theon’s didn’t need her defending them, they were doing just fine the way they were, thanks. 

Yara chuckled. “Can I get you to write all that down for me? I’d like to have it embroidered on a pillow. I wasn’t saying we were an ugly lot. I was saying we weren’t as blessed in our looks as we are in other areas.” She gave Arya a wink and glanced back at Sansa. “I’m sure you’ll find out.” 

“That’s your brother, you know,” Arya said. 

“Oh, and you lot are out here celebrating your brother’s virility and ability to knock up a woman to fruition, so I don’t think you have a leg to stand on, Arya.” 

“Never said I did, but still. I’d never talk about my brother’s prowess.” 

“That’s because your brothers are either infants or Robb Stark,” Yara said with a sniff, and Sansa burst out laughing. Full-on cackling until Yara’s phone buzzed. Hers too. She didn’t pull it out to check it though, seeing as Theon likely had sent her the same message. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Yara slipped her arm around Sansa and helped her stand. “Are you good to walk? I’ve gotta support this one and it’ll be like the blind leading the blind.” 

“I’m fine,” Sansa said, wobbling on her heels before sitting back down to slip them off and hold them in her hand as she followed behind Yara and Arya, maybe not walking in the straightest line, but she had the most serious face of anyone drinking here. 

So serious. 

She was dead serious. This was no laughing matter. Walking. And not falling. 

Sansa swallowed and winced at the taste in her mouth. She should have got something more than a glass of water. A swish of mouthwash was in order, too bad she no longer carried any with her. 

Sansa staggered on behind the other two, thinking she was doing very well until it took her three tries to make it through the door and out onto the sidewalk, and Arya and Yara were dying with laughter when she finally came out. 

“It’s like watching a cat try to get free of a plastic bag,” Yara laughed. 

Sansa reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Fat lot of good you were… if it was up to you, I’d have been in there forever… The door was… tricky.” 

“Aye, those doors are a tricky lot,” Arya hiccuped. 

She glared at the two of them and stumbled with the effort. 

“How much did she have?” Theon asked suddenly and Sansa turned to face him, unaware of when he’d arrived. 

He’d always been there. He was the reason they’d come outside. 

“I had just enough,” Sansa replied. 

“Shhh,” Yara hissed. “You’re so fucking loud, gods…” 

“I wasn’t…” she said, grinning widely as Theon slipped his arm around her shoulder. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home. Maybe eat something too…” he said. 

She raised her hand to wave at Arya, who was resting her head on Yara’s shoulder. Yara waved and Arya lifted her arm and let it fall again. 

“Arya, I’ll ring you,” Sansa called. 

Theon steered her to the car and helped her get inside. Then, he took her shoes and tossed them in the back before circling to the driver’s seat. 

It smelled like a combination between Theon and the new car smell, and Sansa figured it must have something to do with the air freshener that was hanging from his rearview mirror. 

“Your car smells nice,” she said. “Hate that air freshener, though.” 

“Is it making you sick?” he asked. “I’ll toss it if it is…” 

“No, it’s not,” she said, pulling ineffectually at the seat belt. Theon reached across and pulled it down over her waist, buckling it in a single swift motion. 

She looked over at him, concentrating on his face. “Just covers up your smell.” 

“My smell?” he said, chuckling. “I smell?” 

“Not bad,” she replied. “You smell like Theon and I like that smell. Theon smells nice. You, I mean. You smell nice.” 

“Thanks,” he said, pulling the car out of park and switching off the caution lights that she hadn’t even realized were on. 

“What about me?” she asked, letting her head fall back on the car seat as she lolled it to the side to look at his face in profile. 

“What about you?” 

Sansa was drunk. But what she wasn’t was stupid. If there was ever any chance to find out what he thought about her, it was now. 

“How do I smell?” 

He swallowed thickly. “You smell like your shampoo.” 

She grinned lazily. “Not that… I mean what do I smell like? Not what do I wear that you notice...” 

“You wear your shampoo?” 

She rolled her eyes and immediately regretted it. “For a bit, yeah. The scent stays. What do I _really_ smell like, though? I know you know.” 

His face reddened and he coughed into his hand. “Not sure that there’s a name for it. It’s under the lily scent of your perfume too.” 

“How do you know I wear lily perfume?” she asked. 

“I’ve seen the bottle,” he said with a smirk. “Or else I wouldn’t.” 

“Oh,” she said, letting her head fall back. “Do I smell good?” 

“Yes,” he answered. 

“Good. I always worry about that.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

That made her belly swoop. She beamed over at him. “Gods, the bar is low, Theon.” 

“What?” he asked. 

“That was probably the nicest thing anyone’s said to me who actually meant it in months.” She took a deep breath and sighed again. “Bar’s so low, gods.” 

He was silent for a long moment before speaking again. “Are you hungry?” 

“Nah,” she shook her head. “I’ll get something when we get home.” 

He smiled when she said that. Why that was, she had no idea. But she enjoyed his smile a lot, so she didn’t mind. 

At that moment, both their phones buzzed and she was the first to open the text. 

It was from Robb. 

A picture. Margaery with her eyes closed and a white hospital sheet over her chest. But on her chest... 

“She had the baby,” Sansa squealed. 

“She did?” Theon looked torn between wanting to see and wanting to drive. 

“A boy. They haven’t named him yet, but both he and Marg are good. Robb looks worse for the wear, though.” 

They stopped at a light, and Theon leaned over to look, so Sansa turned the phone so he could see it. 

He smiled then. A different sort of smile than she’d ever seen on him before. But she liked it. He looked warm. Genuinely happy for his friend. It looked a combination of proud and hopeful and elated. “Look at that hair.” 

“Tully,” they both said in unison. 

“They look so happy,” Sansa said. 

“Yeah… happy and exhausted.” 

The car behind them honked. 

“Oops.” He punched the gas and Sansa giggled as he hung right and turned down the road where her building was located. She was feeling a bit better when they got back to the flat. At least, until they stepped in the lift and she practically fell into his arms. 

He didn’t look too put upon that she was there, however. He had her shoes in one hand and the other was wrapped around her waist. She fit so well against him, she had to wonder if he noticed. 

Sansa felt a surge of courage. Perhaps from the happy news that Robb and Marg finally had their wee baby. Maybe because of the booze or the way his eyes lingered on her cleavage. And her legs. And how his hand tightened around her waist as he stepped back, keeping an arm around her as a guide when they left the lift. 

He got the door to her flat open. No small feat with her glomped onto his side like a squid. 

“You feeling alright, Sans?” he asked. 

“I’m feeling a bit tired,” she said dreamily, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. 

“Let’s get you to bed, then.” 

That made her thrill a little. She wondered if she could convince him to stay with her. Probably not in her bed… but perhaps if she slept on the sofa? 

She wobbled when they reached the sofa and sat down on the end of the sectional. “I’m good here,” she said, scooting down so she could lean against the cushions on the far end. 

“You sure?” he asked. “It’s just a few more steps.” 

“Yeah…” she said with a grin. “I’m fine here… come here and join me…” She reached down and patted the cushion beside her. 

“Sansa…” he said softly. “You’re not yourself.” 

“How would you know?” she countered. “I could be myself. I could have dropped my inhibitions.” 

Or she tried to say inhibitions. It came out inshibitons. Inhibshons. Close enough. 

He shook his head. “You’ve dropped them too much.” 

“Come sit with me… I sleep better when you’re beside me.” 

His eyes widened, and Sansa might have been embarrassed if she weren’t flying so very high on liquid courage. 

“Sansa…” he repeated. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Why? Because you’re not interested? Because you’re in recovery? Did I—“ 

“No, no, nothing like that. “It’s because you’re very drunk, love.” 

She blinked, her eyes tearing up suddenly. “Oh gods, I’ve ruined this, haven’t I? Oh fuck it all…” She pressed her hands to her eyes and rubbed hard. “Bollocks.” 

“No, no… Sansa. You haven’t ruined anything.” 

“I have,” she wailed. 

He hesitated for a long moment before slipping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to him for a hug. She rested her head on his chest and sniffled. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair and pushed it out of the way. “You couldn’t ruin anything if you tried,” he said softly. 

“Will you stay until I go to sleep?” she asked softly. 

“Yeah… but then I’m going back to my bed, kay?” 

She nodded and sniffled again. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

She did though, after having gone out on a limb only to have him shut her down. She did have plenty to be sorry for. She’d shot her shot and missed. By a long way. 

And now this wouldn’t be the same. 

He was right, she _was_ drunk, and that did account for a lot of what she’d done. She was a bit wrong, but she was also a little bit right as well. These were her thoughts. Her wants. Her deepest desires. And she’d let Yara and Arya butter her up to the point where she went for it. 

Gods, it was probably the last thing he was thinking about. He was probably just worried that he’d lost her as a friend. 

“You won’t lose me,” she said softly. 

“Won’t lose me either,” he countered. 

“I mean it. We can just—“ 

“We’ll talk about it another time, okay? After coffee tomorrow, if you feel up to it.” 

Inhaling deeply, she nodded. She knew when to quit. 


	7. Theon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so long in getting to you, I wrote it and then realized I had to add more, and the more I had to add was just... the most painful thing ever. So just know that as this gets to you, I am dead. Posting posthumously from here on out.
> 
> Again, thanks to treaddelicately for betaing this chapter and being dead right along with me.
> 
> Also this chapter has some *slight* smut at the end, but don't get too excited, because it's not Theonsa smut. Well... sort of. You'll see.
> 
> Nothing left to say but, enjoy? ;)
> 
> Also I added more tags. Take a look if you will. <3

_‘I have laboured over whether or not to tell you why I was writing, but I came to the conclusion that to hide it from you wouldn’t be fair, nor would it be the mature thing to do.’_

_-Sansa_

* * *

“You ever attempt to go over the speed limit or do you, yanno, just reside right around this speed all the time?” Arya asked from the back seat. Her foot was propped on the back of Theon’s seat, tapping the headrest behind his head.

“You’re lucky I’m driving at all with your big clown feet in my face. They’re liable to block my vision,” he retorted.

Arya tapped his cheek with her shoe and he reached back to knock it off. Sansa swatted her sister.

“Keep your hands and feet to yourself, heathen,” Sansa hissed.

Theon could practically hear Arya rolling her eyes.

“Why don’t you put them in Gendry’s lap again?” Sansa offered.

“Because the last time I did that, you lot started complaining that we were being too affectionate.”

“Don’t believe that’s the word we used at all,” Theon replied.

“Yeah, pretty sure we said you were disgusting.”

“Disgusting. Affectionate. Same difference,” Arya mused.

It was only now that Gendry removed his headphones. “What’s going on?”

“We’re disgusting,” Arya replied.

“Oy, you are still on that?” he asked, placing his headphones in his lap. “We haven’t even been touching for the last half an hour.”

Theon rolled his eyes and glanced down at the stereo. “You wanna turn that up?” he asked Sansa.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

She reclined in her seat and gazed out the passenger window. If he wasn’t careful, he was liable to wreck the car staring at her.

He wished he wasn’t driving because the sun coming through the trees and glistening in her hair was photo-worthy. It was weird how correct Sansa had been about the camera. Since picking it back up again, it had almost become second nature.

Theon had brought it along at Margaery’s behest to take pictures of baby Callum. He was more than a little nervous, because not only had he never held a baby before, he was fairly certain the likes of him shouldn’t have been able to touch something so pure anyway.

He’d probably smudge him irreparably or something.

While he knew that wasn’t likely, it still made him nervous. Theon felt strange, driving up to the North to see the newest Starkling, but Robb had invited him along with Sansa and Arya. Gendry was coming along as well, but he was practically married into the family. Maybe not literally, but basically, he was their kin.

But Theon? He wasn’t anything but Sansa’s roommate. Robb’s best school chum. What was he doing here?

“Should we check into the hotel first?” Sansa asked. “Just to make sure everything’s alright?”

Theon almost chuckled. She’d been anxious about the hotel reservations since they’d made them. They were late getting on the road because she couldn’t find the receipt she’d printed and also couldn’t find the digital one she’d saved to her phone. She’d ended up logging back into the website and saving another one just to find the file name. And then she fought with the printer anyway to print another. With Arya groaning the entire time.

“Cor, we checked this morning,” Arya groaned. “All the reservations were fine. Just head over to Robb’s. If I don’t see the little potato soon I might explode.”

“Robb’s son is not a potato,” Sansa said, sighing. “He’s a tuberling and don’t you forget it.”

It had been a running joke ever since one of Marg’s pictures had featured Callum napping in her arms and looking very much like a wee potato. Both in shape and expression.

“You’d better get that out of your system before we get to Robb and Marg’s,” Theon warned. ‘I’m pretty sure Marg would kill the lot of you for disdaining her firstborn in such a manner.”

Sansa laughed. “Oh, I intend to tell her. She’s my best friend, I don’t hide anything from her.”

“You’re going to tell her that her baby looks like a tuber?”

“I’m going to tell her that Arya said the baby looked like a tuber. There’s a difference between what is said and what’s the truth of the matter,” Sansa teased.

“I will pull you under the bus with me, don’t you forget it,” Arya reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sansa replied. “Hush and listen to the music.”

The rest of the car ride was spent, not in silence, but at least in amiable conversation as they drove past the hotel where their reservations were and onward toRobb and Marg’s house.

Theon glanced over at her as they drove by the hotel, and he felt he knew her well enough to recognize when she was literally biting her tongue not to speak.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, won’t it?” he said, fighting the urge to hold her hand. There was no reason to do that here. Definitely not in front of Arya and Gendry. They’d never hear the end of it after all the guff they’d given the two of them about PDA.

She smiled in a very tight manner and nodded. “I suppose it will…”

Her finger still twisted in her lap, though. He saw her physically restrain them from moving by sitting on them, and then she leaned against the door to gaze out the window.

Theon checked back in with her to make certain she was alright and noticed her eyes fluttering closed about twenty minutes from Robb’s house.

He was all set to wake her up gently, even going so far as to glance imploringly at Arya, who either ignored him or didn’t see him before she’d jumped up through the partition in the seats screeching like a banshee and startling Sansa almost to the point of grabbing the door handled and booking it out of the car.

Arya cackled, collapsing on the centre console and begging Gendry to pull her back because she couldn’t move. Gendry took his sweet time, however, and Sansa swatted her to within an inch of her life as Arya yelped and Gendry finally pulled her back. They opened the door and got out into the heated garage, Arya sprinted over to close the door behind them.

Winter had most certainly come to the North, and the new parents likely were attempting not to let the chill into the home and had sent along instructions on how to park before they’d left that morning.

“You alright?” Theon asked Sansa, grinning widely when she swatted at him half-heartedly. “Oy, I tried to stop her!”

“Tried to stop her how? You try to glance her to death or something?”

“To be fair, she was a lot faster than I could react,” Theon said.

“Ah, so the truth comes out,” Sansa laughed, reaching over to straighten the seam on his jumper, smoothing it over his shoulder. He could have done himself, but he rather liked the feel of her hands on him. Even in this limited capacity.

Sansa was a very tactile person, he’d never been on the receiving end of it before, but he’d seen her do it with other people. Her friends, mostly. But also a couple of boyfriends in high school.

He didn’t know enough about it to know if this was friendly or more than that.

It wasn’t something he should be thinking about anyway.

After her drunken confession a few days before, he really shouldn’t be encouraging these feelings and actions. Not while he was still a total mess. He wasn’t leading her on, was he? It wasn’t readily apparent, but he didn’t feel like he was capable of leading anyone. He was just starved for touch.

And she was reading into it. So perhaps he was. It was difficult because more than one part of him wanted to lean into it. He knew he responded to her physically. He knew that much. And on one hand, she seemed so soft and so good for him, it’d be easy to just go where she pulled him. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard.

Every time she touched him, he had the same thoughts.

Touch her back. Encourage her to touch him more. No, wait. You’re not better yet. Abort.

Never mind how it made his skin tingle whenever she brushed over it. She was so bloody warm all the time. He never really noticed how cold he was until he’d gotten physically close to Sansa. Or maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, so to speak. He’d felt her warmth and now he felt near-frozen without it. Whichever it was, he couldn’t help but chuckle at all the ‘ice queen’ jokes he heard about her. If only these idiots knew how warm she was.

She reached up and straightened his hair, moving one of his curls over and smoothing it down a few times before giving up. “It’s getting long again,” she said absently. He could probably die just from that.

He gulped.

Gendry kicked the door closed and for a long moment, it was very quiet and it was noticeably just he and Sansa and the interior of his car. “Yeah, might need a haircut again soon.” He placed his hand where hers had just been. He swore every time she touched him, she left a mark. Something visible that other people could see and somehow know from looking at it exactly what his thoughts were.

What they were and what they shouldn’t be.

“If you want, I could do it when we get back home?” she offered.

He shouldn’t say yes, but he did. Very quickly. “Yeah, yeah… that sounds great, yeah.”

She’d just referred to her flat as home. And he’d agreed.

Sansa grinned and reached for the door handle. “Open the boot, would you?”

“What? Oh… right, yeah…” He reached for the lever to release the latch on the boot. They had gifts for the baby. Sansa had some for Marg as well.

He took a long breath and opened his own door afterwards, climbing out of the car and accidentally right into Gendry, who grinned and winked in his direction. “My goodness, Theon, I never knew you felt this way.”

Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Arya had better watch out.”

“You hear that, Arya?” Gendry called. “Theon’s out to steal me from you.”

Arya snorted derisively. “He doesn’t look like a boyfriend stealer. Looks like a sister-stealer to me…” She grinned and Theon pushed the door closed, hoping like hell that Sansa hadn’t heard her sister.

He shot her what he hoped was a nasty look and went round to the back of the car to help Sansa with the bags.

There were a lot of them. A rather large gift from Arya and Gendry, as well as a bottle of scotch from Arya for Robb, a few bags of baby clothes from Sansa, and a rather heavy bag of things for Margaery. Theon had gotten the baby a bond by Sansa’s suggestion, set to mature on his eighteenth birthday, it would mature into a tidy sum that could be used for college or something. He also got the kid a wee Direwolf hat because every Stark child needed one, yeah?

He was tasked with carrying in the heavy bag for Margaery, it was his understanding that it was mostly bath products and things she could use to relax now that the baby was here. Sansa had gone on and on about how after babies were born, the mothers often weren’t supported, not by their families, but by society, and the way she put it made sense. Marg had done the unthinkable and now all anyone wanted to do was coo over the baby. Or perhaps it only made sense because Sansa could convince him of anything given the right amount of time.

Which was why her drunken request to join her on the sofa was so very difficult to say no to.

She hadn’t brought the latter up again since it had happened, so Theon assumed she either didn’t remember or was embarrassed by her actions. Either way, it’d be rude to bring it up again. At least, not now, so soon after it had happened.

He followed the other three into the mudroom, all of them kicking off their shoes and hanging coats and scarves on the hooks before letting themselves into the house. Arya immediately dropped the volume of her voice the second they stepped into the kitchen, which was good because it was so very quiet in the house.

Robb rounded the corner, a tired smile on his face as he quietly greeted them. “Callum’s been asleep for about an hour, but his nap’s almost over, you’ll get to see him soon.”

Sansa gave him a quick kiss and a hug and left the room in search of Margaery.

Theon wanted to follow her, but seeing as Arya had peeled off as well, he assumed it was likely a lady’s moment and they wouldn’t want him crashing it.

Plus, Robb had enveloped him in a tight hug and there was no leaving now.

“How are you?” Theon asked.

“Truthfully? I’m so tired I could fucking drop right here,” Robb replied, walking over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. “And I don’t want to drink caffeine if Marg can’t, so I’m sort of stuck in this fog of being pretty certain I’ve never slept a wink before in my life.”

“So it’s hard, then?” Gendry asked. “I mean, obviously it is, but it is.”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Robb replied. “Between this and keeping Mum out of the bloody house, it’s been difficult.”

Theon cracked a smile at that. He couldn’t imagine Robb keeping Catelyn out of anywhere, let alone away from her first grandchild.

“You’ve kept her out, then?’

“Seven bloody hells, Theon…” Robb rolled his eyes. “You know, I used to think Marg just wasn’t used to Mum? Like maybe she was overreacting to a very loving mother? Theon, I’ve considered matricide.”

Gendry guffawed. “You have not.”

“I have,” Robb insisted. “She doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘stop calling’.”

“Sansa could have told you that,” Theon said with a shrug.

“I know, I know, but honestly, it’s never bothered me up until now. She woke me up yesterday. Wanting to come over and ‘help’ with housework. First of all, she knows damn well that we have a housekeeper who comes round twice a week. And secondly, she wouldn’t have done anything but keep Callum off his sleep schedule.”

Theon glanced around the kitchen, which, while it wasn’t a mess per se, certainly hadn’t been in use for a few days. “If you want, I could cook something?” He glanced at the clock. “Dinner for you both? We’re likely going to go have dinner out, but I could whip something up for you both. After I snap some photos, I mean.”

“Long as it’s something that’ll keep. That kid has got a pair of lungs on him and neither I nor his mother is loath to put him down when he’s fussy.”

“Alright, then, I’ll just—“

A cry broke out in the other room, causing all three men to glance in the direction of the family room.

“First things first, though. There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Robb said with a grin, clapping his hand on Theon’s shoulder and steering him towards the family room.

Panic bloomed in his belly. He had sort of hoped to bypass all of this by remaining in the kitchen and the wings, snapping photos. He hadn’t spoken about it much, but he didn’t want to hold the new baby. Not because he didn’t like babies. If anything, he was indifferent about them. But the thought of Marg and Robb allowing him to hold something so pure and new, it felt…

It scared the fuck out of him.

Perhaps Robb wasn’t going to offer the baby to him. Perhaps he was just going to introduce them in another way.

When they left the kitchen and stepped into the family room, his breath caught in his throat.

Sansa was seated on the sofa, holding a tiny bundle in her arms. She was speaking very quietly as she peered into it. The dark grey swaddling blanket had fallen away at the head to reveal a headful of russet curls. Speaking of the head, it was so tiny.

So very tiny.

Smaller than he’d been expecting.

“Come on, mate,” Robb steered him around to the back of the couch so he could look over Sansa’s shoulder and down at the baby in her arms.

She held him up slightly, one hand supporting his neck and the other just below, giving him a place to sit and also supporting his neck. He had dark blue eyes and they were trained directly on Sansa, and she was speaking to him in a very soft voice he’d only ever heard her reserve for puppies in the past.

“They say you look like your daddy, but I think it’s Mummy who you favour the most,” she said. “And you’re a lucky little thing because Mummy is gorgeous.”

Callum made a soft cooing sound and then a wobbly smile appeared on his face.

Theon smiled despite himself. He was rather adorable. Even for a squishy potato.

“You want to hold him, Theon?” Margaery asked.

Sansa gazed up over her shoulder, pulling Callum into the crook of her arm. “You can sit here if you’d like?” she offered.

He had excuses at the ready.

Shouldn’t Arya hold him first?

Gendry as well?

Sansa looks comfortable, I’ll wait.

And then disappear and slip out before they were able to ask him again. But in all the scenarios he had practised, it was Marg or Robb who asked him.

This was Sansa asking him. And there was only one thing he’d ever refuse her. And perhaps it was guilt stemming from that one exception that made him want to please her in every other respect.

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” he heard himself reply.

Normally, he wouldn’t make her move, but he did feel better sitting if he was going to hold the baby.

He was trembling as she scooted down and gave him room to sit between her and the arm of the sofa.

Sansa passed Callum over and he mimicked the way she’d held him. It was strange. He weighed almost nothing, and yet, his arms ached with the strain of holding him.

Callum wrinkled his nose almost immediately, letting out a sort of a squawk. Theon quickly tucked him into his arms, closer against his chest, and made a soft shushing sound he honestly had never made before in his life. Callum settled down almost immediately, leaning his head against his shoulder and snuggling up under his chin.

His heart fluttered and he was fairly certain he was sweating profusely, but it seemed all of his fears had been for nothing.

He held, was holding, Callum and the world hadn’t ended. He hadn’t ruined him. He was still just a perfect little tuber baby who was happy to be cuddled and didn’t give two shits about who Theon was or what he’d done.

“Oh,” Marg made a soft sound and reached over to right the blanket around him.

Callum smelled like something brand new, and Theon inhaled deeply before glancing up at Marg and Sansa, who were hovering over him. “You want him back?”

“I haven’t even gotten a turn,” Arya said, pushing Sansa out of the way so she could take the baby from Theon.

Theon stood up and rolled his shoulders, walking over to stand beside Sansa.

“Not so bad, huh?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said truthfully. Then, he went to take his camera from Sansa’s bag to start snapping a few shots of everyone holding him. Flash off, of course.

It felt like no time at all, but soon Callum was rooting against Gendry’s arm and Marg had to grab him and disappear back to the bedroom. Sansa and Arya tagged along and Theon went out to the kitchen to start dinner for Robb.

He enlisted Gendry for help, instructing him to chop onions and mince garlic while he searched in the fridge for something to cook.

He came back with a pound of Italian sausage and a few cans of tomatoes, figuring he’d make up a bechamel lasagna. There was mozzarella that was clearly meant to be for pizza in the cheese drawer, so he figured with a few tweaks, he could make something resembling lasagna.

Of course, there were no lasagna noodles in the cupboard, so he had to regroup mid-cook, but he decided on a baked pasta dish with a bechamel on top. It could be refrigerated and reheated as needed since it was mostly cooked.

“You ever think about having one of those?” Gendry asked.

Theon had to assume he didn’t mean the garlic press, so he shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe at one time, I did.”

“Not anymore, though?”

“I mean, maybe? In the distant future?” Theon chuckled a little. “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno. Just thinking.”

“Sounds like something you should think about with Arya, considering that she’d be the one doing all the work.”

Gendry chuckled and shook his head. “That’s not for Arya. I was thinking more along the lines of adopting.”

Theon smiled warmly. “That sounds more like Arya.”

“Probably should move out of Flea Bottom, though.”

“I mean if you want.”

Gendry chuckled. “Just thinking. Not sure about any of it.”

“Adopting would be cool. Sort of wish someone had done that for me,” Theon said with a laugh, thinking back to his childhood, the only bright spots were when he was with Robb and staying over at Winterfell.

“Yeah, same,” Gendry said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Davos. And he’s the closest thing to a father I have, but I wish he’d found me sooner, you know?”

Theon smiled and dumped the sausage into the pan. “Didn’t know you were in the system.”

“Yeah… sort of would like to keep other little ones from the same fate, you know?”

“That’s a really lovely thing to want to do, Gendry. I’m sure if you explained it to Arya like that, she’d be on board in a second.”

“You think?”

“Especially if it means she doesn’t have to be pregnant. Don’t think I’d want to be either, tables turned.”

Gendry laughed and pointed down at the cutting board. “That good enough?”

“Yep, looks good, dump it in.”

Gendry slid the contents of the board into the pan and Theon resumed frying.

The sauce came together rather quickly and he was able to mix everything with par-cooked pasta and top it with a quick bechamel before knocking the whole thing into the oven on a low setting.

He and Gendry cleaned up and went back out to the family room to find Margaery barely awake on the sofa with the baby laying on her chest. Sansa caught his eye and smiled, rising to go to him.

“Figure we should head out? Our latest check-in is at five, and it’s half four already.”

“Yeah, get Arya and we’ll head out.”

It didn’t take long to say their goodbyes, especially when they would be stopping by the next day before heading over to see Ned and Cat.

They drove out to the hotel and Theon parked the car while Sansa and Arya went inside to deal with the reservations.

When he and Gendry reached them, Sansa and Arya were arguing. Well, sort of. Sansa was arguing, Arya was laughing.

“What’s going on?” Theon asked as he and Gendry joined them, lugging the overnight bags.

“They lost Sansa’s reservation,” Arya laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Sansa hissed.

“It is a bit,” Arya said with a laugh. “You’re not bunking with me.”

Sansa sighed. “Why not? Gendry could stay with Theon.”

“No,” Arya said, laughing. “We’re going to have sex, and Gendry being in another room will hinder those plans greatly.”

“You guys live together, though,” Sansa protested.

“So do you guys,” Arya said pointedly. “Shouldn’t be a big deal.”

Sansa’s face wrinkled and it was almost adorable, but Theon couldn’t admire Sansa just now. Not when he was panicking about the turn his night was about to take. “Sansa, it’s fine, you can stay in my room,” he heard himself say. Even though it was a single king. Meaning there was one bed.

“See? All fixed,” Arya said. She smirked and tapped the door keycard on Gendry’s shoulder. “Come on.”

The two of them left and Theon reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “I promise, it’s not a big deal, Sansa. I can sleep on the floor.”

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s fine, Theon. I can sleep on the floor. I’m the one with no room.” She turned and walked towards the elevators, a bit slower so they could lose Arya and Gendry, though.

“Not your fault, though,” he said, following close behind.

“We can both sleep on the bed,” she said definitively. “We’re adults. It’s fine.”

He swallowed thickly. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

She smiled at him and they reached the elevator, pressing the button.

It took a moment to get back to them, but they soon stepped on and were riding up. It felt almost like it had that first night in her place. An awkward elevator ride up to a space they’d both be sharing. Even if only for the night.

He let her step out first and then led the way to the room, opening the door to a single room with a king-sized bed and absolutely no other furniture that could be fashioned into a makeshift bed.

“See?” she said, laughing a bit. “Nothing to be scared of.”

Of course, she did seem a bit scared, placing her bag on the desk and rummaging inside for her toiletries, which she took into the bathroom to set up on the vanity.

She returned momentarily and went to sit on the bed, pulling out her phone to look at the screen.

He joined her, albeit with approximately forty leagues, if he was measuring nautically, between them on the bed. In fact, he kept one foot on the ground the entire time.

It wasn’t until the rhythmic bumping behind his head got to be too loud before he looked up, frowning at her as he tried to listen to what it was. He couldn’t quite place the sound, but…

“It’s Arya and Gendry,” she said with a sigh. “Their room is right there, isn’t it? Beside yours?”

The bumping was punctuated with a muffled moan and he closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, their room is right there.”

The moaning got increasingly louder and louder, to the point of almost being able to hear the intake of air before the expulsion. “Gods, Arya’s plenty loud, isn’t she?” he asked.

Sansa pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No. No, she’s not.”

Theon was about to argue with her when it dawned on him exactly what she was saying. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

She chuckled. “Arya lived with me for a few weeks before she gave up all pretence and moved in with him.”

“Oh. Sorry. Hope I’m a better roommate.”

“You are miles beyond better, Theon.”

He laughed a bit, and then the sounds stopped behind them. “Oh, maybe it’s over?”

“Rookie mistake,” she said. “It’s likely they’re just changing positions.”

When the moaning started up again at least five times louder, Theon jumped away from the head of the bed. “Does he have his mouth pressed against the wall, what--”

Sansa giggled and came to join him at the end of the bed.

“TV?”

“Gods, yes,” she said, watching as he grabbed the remote and turned it on.

And as luck would have it, the channel that had been previously on was still on and featured a film with a very steamy sex scene.

The woman on screen made sounds very similar to the ones Gendry was making, and it made his skin prickle strangely to be watching this with Sansa.

It wasn’t porn or anything like that. But likely wasn’t something one would find on a family channel of any sort.

When the woman rolled over and her breasts bounced with the motion, he quickly changed the channel.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.

“Not your fault,” she said, laughing a bit. “Unless you chose the TV schedule?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I… I didn’t.”

He could practically hear her smirking from across the wide expanse of bed. Chancing a look in her direction didn’t help matters. She always was so beautiful when she smiled.

Not that she wasn’t other times, but…

Drowned God, he needed help. He wasn’t even sure what kind. But something.

Slowly surfing through the channels in a way that one only did while staying in a hotel, the selection wasn’t much better than the thready moaning and screen-full of tits they’d been treated to when he’d first switched it on.

But of course, switching it off wasn’t much better. The rhythmic thumping had grown louder somehow, along with what he now knew to be Gendry’s moaning.

He inhaled sharply and dropped the remote control to his side.

“Fancy an early dinner?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said quickly.

She smiled. “Let’s go to the Wall, shall we? I never get to go unless we’re in the North.”

“Never had a chance to go before I moved,” he confessed.

“One of Jon’s chums owns it,” she explained. “Not that it makes much of a difference, I’m pretty sure that he wouldn’t know me from the First Men, but they make a good steak.” She winked and stood. “Let me just go freshen up.”

“Okay,” he replied, bouncing on his toes with one hand in his pocket, and the other holding his phone and steadily scrolling through his Twitter feed in search of something, anything that could take his mind off the obvious.

Not that the sounds of Arya and Gendry made him feel much like fucking, but it was the first and only godsdamned thing in his mind and he couldn’t think about it with Sansa there in the room.

Fuck, he shouldn’t even be thinking about it at all, but here he was, making quantifiable rules for thinking about it.

He wanted to blame it on his lack of action in the previous months, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought much about it until Sansa.

Being in rehab took it out of you, and maybe it was just the perfect storm of being out of that hell, in both body and mind, and then being around Sansa at the same time… He took a deep breath and let it out again.

Even if this was inevitable, it couldn’t happen tonight. Nothing could. Because not only was he not ready, he sort of wanted to take it slowly. At least, somewhat slowly. And any tinge of romance right now would culminate in the two of them fucking like rabbits in the shared hotel room because nothing was keeping them from it.

He licked his lips. The thought of her. Like that. Fucking… fucking him, no less.

It certainly wasn’t helping.

He took a deep breath once more. He could control himself. He was an adult. And so was Sansa.

Never mind that she’d practically thrown herself at him the night she’d come back from the pub with Arya and Yara. Never mind that if she hadn’t been drunk, he’d have let her. Never mind that he was none-too-slowly coming around to the idea that she was what he wanted in an ideal partner. Besides the fact that she was beautiful, truly beautiful, she was so bloody supportive it almost hurt.

She’d be good for him. Everyone seemed to think so. But that wasn’t the question. Of course, she’d be good for him.

He wasn’t good for her yet.

That was the quantifier and he wanted so very badly, to be good for her.

Theon exhaled when he heard the door open to the bathroom.

This was doable. Even if she threw herself at him, he wouldn’t break. Couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. But of course, that left the worry of if she did throw herself at him, how to let her down without making her think he didn’t fancy her.

He had to hope he’d say the right thing because thinking about it did nothing to quell his fear.

“You ready?” she asked, smiling widely and pulling her purse over her shoulder.

“Yeah, you’ll have to tell me how to get there.”

“Fine with me,” she said.

And with that, he followed her out the door. It was much quieter in the hallway.

He followed along after her as they made their way to the elevators. Once downstairs, it was just a short walk to the car.

Of course the second he turned on the radio, a love song blasted on the speakers. One of Sansa’s where she had her phone paired to his Bluetooth.

“Ummmm…” she quickly scrambled to grab her phone from her purse, fumbling with it until she got it to skip to the next song. A much quieter, folksy sort of song. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, laughing a bit because what else could he do?

Besides torture himself with thoughts of winding her hair around his fingers and kissing her lips softly. And then she’d part them, and he’d feel her tongue sliding over his.

It was enough to promptly cease that line of thought, because not only was it not helping, it was making things very apparent in a trousers-sort of way, that he had one thing on his mind.

“I mean, if we really wanted to squash the mood, we could go spend the evening with my parents.”

“I think we’ll manage on our own,” he said with a grin in her direction. “Which way is this steakhouse?”

“Take a left out of the car park,” she directed.

He did, and they settled into an amiable silence. Sansa singing softly to the song and him trying to ignore the way she smelled. Like something floral. Like something fresh and clean and—

“— If you want,” she said.

“What?” he asked, blinking rapidly and attempting to pay attention.

“If you want, I can go stay at Winterfell. With my parents? I have a room there. It’d be fine if you—“

“Sansa,” he said softly.

“I mean it, say the word and I’ll—“

“I don’t want you to do that.”

“Isn’t that part of the problem?” she asked.

He sighed and shifted in the seat. “There’s no problem, Sans.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Am I?” She replied, laughing a bit too maniacally to be breezy. “Of course I am, Theon. We’ve been living together for weeks and I’ve not… I mean… barring the night I got drunk with Yara and Arya, I haven’t tried to—“

“Sans, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I mean… so long as I don’t get four drinks with dinner, I’d say with absolute certainty that your honour will be intact, ser.” He couldn’t get a read on her tone.

“You are positively adorable when you’re drunk,” he said stiltedly. “Not that I’d prefer you that way, or that you’re any more adorable when you’re not— Fuck…” He swore under his breath and bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself from talking.

“Theon,” Sansa reached for him, her fingers closing around his wrist and brushing against his skin beneath the cuff of his coat. “I think we can safely say that this isn’t as big a deal as we each are making of it?”

“Yes,” he said, sighing in relief. “Yes.”

“Okay. So let’s just have dinner and then we’ll head back and sleep.”

“Sleep,” he repeated if only to emphasize the fact to himself.

“By the way, you’ll need to take a right on Main ahead,” she said, pointing.

He put on his turn signal and started moving over that way.

It turned out that it wasn’t much farther than that and he was soon turning into the car park of the restaurant.

It was already dark, even at a quarter past six. And he came round to close the car door for her before they walked in together. Her in front because she’d been here before.

He wasn’t sure why she’d been worried about no one knowing who she was. A red-haired woman practically screeched at the sight of her the second they stepped inside.

“SANSA!!!” the woman yelped, running towards her and wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

Sansa laughed and hugged her back. “Ygritte!”

“Jon said you’d be in town tomorrow!”

“Well, we got in early to go meet Callum,” she said.

“Oh, that sweet little bundle of screams,” Ygritte said with all the love she could muster. “He’s kissed by fire, like both his aunties. Oh…” Her eyes brightened when she saw Theon. “Who’s your bloke?”

“Oh, he’s—“ she began.

Theon smiled and stepped forward, extending his hand. “Theon. Greyjoy. And you’re Ygritte?”

The woman grinned and shook his hand firmly. “Theon Greyjoy. I’ve heard about you. Jon’s my man. He’s mentioned a ‘Theon’ once or twice.”

He inhaled sharply. Jon and he were never as close as he and Robb, so it was a tossup as to what sort of things he’d been telling her.

“You look well. I didn’t know you and Sansa were--“

He turned to Sansa and she gave him a look. A questioning one, but in good nature. In short, one that said they were back to where they were before.

“He’s not my bloke, but we do live together,” Sansa interjected, smirking at him and making him feel warm. He was certain it was the fact that they were out amongst other people, people who didn’t know them all that well, which gave him the courage to wink back at her, thrilling a little at the way she blushed.

“Attagirl,” Ygritte said, reaching out and swatting her shoulder in a friendly sort of way.

“Not romantically,” Sansa reiterated. “Just roommates.”

Ygritte winked. “I gotcha. Mum doesn’t like him? She’ll have to get over him some time. But I’ll keep your secret for now. C’mon, there’s a special table near the kitchen. Tormund’ll want to come out and cook for you, something special.”

“You don’t have that table reserved?” Sansa asked as they followed Ygritte to a table with a grill set up nearby. Not unlike the grills that one saw in commercials for just such an establishment. But this one was smaller. More personal. And once Theon realized they were being seated at the chef’s table, he felt the air leave his lungs.

“This is the chef’s table?” he whispered.

Sansa grinned back at him. “I know, isn’t it just—“

“Terrifying,” he said, eying the other patrons who were shooting them very jealous looks.

Ygritte knelt and turned on the gas under the grill, turning up the flames, and scraping it down before returning to the table. “What’ll you have to drink?”

Theon ordered an iced tea and Sansa got a glass of the house red and ice water.

Ygritte left to go fill the orders and Sansa turned her attention back on him.

“What was that?” she asked, nudging him with her foot. “Acting like you’re my bloke.”

“I only answered her question,” he said with a grin.

“Theon…” she said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. “People will start to talk.”

“Yes, and wouldn’t that be wonderful if it got back to your mum by tomorrow?” he asked.

“I think Arya’s rubbing off on you,” she said with a grin. “Because I can’t imagine that’s going to be very fun at all.”

“Oh, I think you’re wrong. I think it will be a blast,” he said.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to play this cool,” she said. “I thought the whole reason for us coming out was to sort of— cool off.“

“I didn’t imply anything,” he replied. “I simply answered what she asked.”

She couldn’t continue the line of questioning because Ygritte had arrived with their drinks and they hadn’t even had time to look at the menus.

“It’s just as well, Tormund wants to cook for you. When he heard one of Jon’s cousins was here, he was so excited,” Ygritte rolled her eyes. “Anyway, enjoy your meal. I’ll be out now and then.”

“Who’s Tormund?” Theon asked.

“He’s the owner of this place. A friend of Jon’s. He’s… well… you’ll see soon enough.”

Ygritte sort of bowed on her way out and Theon took a sip from his glass.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for that display,” Sansa said.

“Why’re you making such a big deal of it?” he asked.

“I’m not,” she squawked. “I simply want to know where I stand, is all.”

“Where you stand?” he repeated, his eyes locking with hers.

“Yes.”

“You should know that by now, shouldn’t you?” It was a hell of a brush off, and he could tell as he was speaking the words that they weren’t enough for Sansa.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t. I’m getting all sorts of mixed signals from you and—“

He took a deep breath. “I was just thinking. The reason we were so tightly wound before at the hotel is that we’re trying so rigidly to remain in our own boxes,” he said. “So I thought that just for tonight, we could relax? We can pretend a bit, can’t we? Be a bit ambiguous?”

“I think we’re ambiguous always.”

“Instead of ambiguous to each other, we’re ambiguous to everyone else... Just to try it out. Ygritte thought we were together and we only just walked in at the same time. I want to see how many more people we can fool.”

“Fine, but no touching and no kissing. Just ambiguous displays.”

“As always?” he teased.

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he conceded, taking another sip from his drink.

She did the same, never breaking eye contact except to hide a smile.

Tormund arrived soon after, with a big booming voice and a smile to match.

He was loud and boisterous and Theon liked him immediately. Even if his eyes did linger on Sansa a bit longer than strictly necessary. He could forgive him that. Theon’s eyes lingered on her as well. He couldn’t begrudge another man for being human. But to his credit, he was nothing but professional.

“Sansa, it’s so wonderful to see you again!” Tormund said, standing so high, his head almost bumped the light fixtures. “I hope you and your fella don’t mind me cooking for you.”

“Are you kidding?” she asked, laughing. “I’d love it.”

“I certainly don’t mind,” Theon piped up, leaning back in the chair and spreading his legs apart slightly to take up more room. It was a bit of posturing he’d done back when he was younger, but he definitely couldn’t rival this guy in sheer size, so he’d have to go for swagger instead.

The red-haired giant cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m Tormund. Giantsbane. Nice to meet ya.”

“Theon Greyjoy,” he said with a grin.

A look of recognition seemed to dawn on his face and Theon sort of had to wonder what Jon had told him. He also had to wonder what Jon would think of him dating his cousin.

He wasn’t, but he had to wonder all the same.

The first course consisted of a grilled goat cheese salad and he honestly could have just eaten that and been fine with it.

Tormund liked to talk. A lot. And he kept the silences filled so there weren’t any awkward pauses or anything.

The second course was, of course, a nice juicy steak, and Theon hadn’t ever been one for red meat, but if Tormund cooked it, he could eat it for every meal and make himself quite sick, but happy about it.

The steak aside, the entire meal itself was a vision.

And he and Tormund warmed up to each other throughout the evening, with the other man insisting that he call him ‘Tor” as everyone else did.

Dessert was some kind of molten lava cake and it was so rich it burned his tongue, but he still managed to eat nearly half of it. Sansa finished off the rest of it, but she’d always had more of a sweet tooth than he had.

Once they’d finished the dessert, Sansa had attempted to pay for all it, only to have her card turned away by both Tormund and Ygritte. Theon wasn’t even allowed to take out his wallet.

She ended up slipping a wad of cash under the plate as they went to leave.

“I will be giving this back to you tomorrow,” Ygritte sing-songed as they went to leave.

The walk out to the car had a bit of weight to it. It was either the knowledge that the evening had gone swimmingly and now they had to go back to normal, or a combination of that, and the fact that they’d have to go back to their single hotel room and think about not fucking.

Once they reached the car, the glisten of the evening had sort of dulled a bit.

The high of even being mistaken for Sansa’s bloke was a steep one and he’d liked it.

He had to wonder if she did as well.

But she didn’t bring it up as he got the door for her.

The thing about steep climbs was that the fall back down was just as sudden. And by the time they pulled out of the car park, he had well and fully come back down to where he’d been before. Miserably frustrated and a mess between his physical desire and emotional need for the woman who was trying her best to ignore him from the passenger seat of his car.

In fact, she was wholly silent as they drove back. She didn’t even sing along to her own music, which felt weird as the seven hells.

By the time they’d pulled back into the hotel car park and he’d cut the engine, he had to run after her, shoving the keys in his pocket after she’d gotten out of his car. But he was a few steps behind and only barely caught the lift with her.

He stepped inside and tried to catch her gaze, but failed.

“Sansa,” he said softly, lowering his voice even more when another couple stepped on.

“Not here,” she said quietly.

He set his jaw and they finally got out on their floor and she bolted from the carriage and he had to follow her, She was fumbling with the room key when he caught her arm.

“Sansa…” She dropped her arm and her hand slid into his briefly before she yanked it back.

“Look, Theon, I can’t—“

“I want to talk.”

“Here?” she asked.

“It has to be here,” he said softly.

“Why?” she asked.

“Let me say what I need to say first and then I’ll explain why it has to be here.”

“Fine.”

He inhaled slowly, exhaling before speaking. His stomach was full of butterflies, and he was just as frightened as he was exhilarated. “Look. I want to kiss you. Just coming clean.”

“What?” she asked, blinking as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Kiss you. I want to kiss you. Snog your brains out. Right now.”

“So why don’t you?” she asked quietly, sounding very much as if she didn’t want to know the answer.

But it wasn’t as bad as she thought. He gazed into her eyes and licked his lips. “Because. If you’ll think for just a moment, I believe you know why.”

“Because…” she trailed off, looking up at the door in front of her. “Because it’s a hotel.”

“Because it’s a hotel,” he echoed. “And if I kiss you here, I won’t stop. And I don’t think I’m ready for that. No matter how much I feel like I could be… ” He looked at her, gesturing vaguely. “Look at you. I’m in agony, Sans.”

“Good,” she said solemnly. “Not good that you’re in agony, because I never want to be the cause of your pain, Theon… but because if you kissed me, I wouldn’t want to stop. Even though I know neither of us is ready for this.”

A lump raised in his throat and he swallowed it back down again. He thought his brain might well explode with that information. “So we’re on the same page.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I need you to know that I want this. Want you,” he whispered. “I want you like mad, but…”

“We’re not ready,” she whispered. “We’re not.”

“ _I’m_ not,” he reiterated, not wanting her to take the blame that wasn’t due her.

“Neither am I,” she insisted. “I still have hangups and there are so many things I need to work through… I’m not--”

“Sansa, I want to be everything for you. I know I won’t actually achieve that, but I want to be able to try. Because I look at you and I see…” He bit his lip and looked down, almost afraid to say it.

_Everything._

“Everything,” she finished for him.

“Yeah…”

She smiled and he wanted more than anything to kiss her. But she reached out and squeezed his hand. “I know. One day. Not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” he said softly.

The unspoken worry was of course, what if one day never came and they were just stuck here forever? What if he wasn’t ever ready to be her everything?

Another lump rose in his throat and she went to unlock the door, opening it and stepping inside. He followed her inside.

The room was chilly when they entered it and Theon inhaled deeply, smelling that weird scent of cigarettes combined with bathroom cleaner than most hotels seemed to smell like.

“I’m just going to get ready for bed,” she said slowly. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, nodding even more quickly as she moved across the room to check into her bag and pull out a small pile of clothes.

It was _really_ small, wasn’t it? Theon didn’t want to read too much into it given the conversation they’d just had. Instead, he went to grab his own bag and rifle through it, looking for his own pyjamas. He’d brought along some flannel trousers, and while he normally slept with his shirt off, he assumed it wouldn’t be appropriate tonight, so he thought fast and grabbed his undershirt for the next day and folded them up. He heard the water running as Sansa washed her face.

The water shut off and it was still a few moments longer before Sansa emerged with her hair down and a hairbrush in hand, her worn clothing folded neatly in one hand, wearing the shortest damn shorts he’d ever seen in his life. With a long-sleeved thermal shirt that looked a bit larger than what her actual size was, but the thing that really made his mouth go dry, or the things, he supposed he should say, were the knee socks.

They were charcoal grey with white stripes at the top. Sort of like tube socks, but long as hell because they went all the way up her legs and resided about two inches above her knees.

All in all, the ensemble matched in colour, but the pieces themselves were perplexing. Mostly because all the blood rushed from his head and he gulped.

Why the fuck did she have to wear that?

It wasn’t that he couldn’t control himself. He could. But Drowned God help him. She looked amazing. Just the right amount of creamy white skin between the tops of her socks and the bottom of her shorts.

Fuck.

“Sorry about the…” she said, gesturing to her outfit and Theon realized he must have been staring.

“No, I’m sorry, you should be able to wear whatever you want without me gawking at you.”

“In my defence,” she said. “These are my normal pyjamas for the North. My arms and chest get cold, but my thighs and bum get too warm, and then my feet and legs get chilly as well, so I mean…”

He was still hung up on her bum being cold at night. If that wasn’t something he could help with, he didn’t know what was.

Of course, now he wanted to smack himself for even thinking that.

“So you have regions?” he asked, letting the words hang out in the air for a bit before Sansa laughed.

“That’s what Arya calls them,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to get in bed, it won’t be a big deal after I’m all covered.”

He nodded and turned, holding his pyjamas strategically in front of his crotch as he turned and went into the bathroom to change.

He did so quickly, even with an erection that threatened to derail his progress with one wrong move. Standing at the sink, he went to brush his teeth and wash his face. Once he’d finished that, it had calmed down a bit, but he knew it would be back the second he got within smelling distance of her. She smelled like that rose water and lily perfume she used and it drove him crazy. He wanted to bury his face in her hair. In her chest… fuck, that wasn’t a good thought to have right now.

He could think of another place he’d like to bury his face, but that did nothing but cause him pain. A good pain, but that was beside the point.

He quickly folded the rest of his worn clothes and returned to the room.

She had the light off, and the telly on, watching some program that was thankfully not the sexfest they’d switched on earlier.

“When Harry Met Sally,’ she said, grinning when he tossed his clothes into his bag and slid into the bed. He stayed well on his side as he got comfortable.

“Never seen it,” he replied.

“It’s one of my favourites,” she said absently. “And it’s only just begun, do you mind if we watch it?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, I know how you feel about rom coms,” she said with a laugh.

“I don’t feel anything about them.”

“Yeah, I know,’ she chuckled. “You hated Dirty Dancing.”

“Sansa, I’d watch anything with you, you should know that by now. If you want, I’ll rewatch Dirty Dancing and watch it seriously and not just to laugh at the guy who drops the watermelons.”

“He didn’t drop them,” she muttered and snuggled down in the bed.

He couldn’t see from there, but he was very aware of her knee socks under the blankets.

He put his phone on the charger and laid back as well.

“We can sit closer, you know,” he said slowly.

“Can we?” she asked, looking over at him. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“We’re both on the same page, Sansa. It’s stupid not to be comfortable.”

“Oh, alright,” she acquiesced and scooted a bit closer to him. He did the same to her and then she did again until he could feel her body heat under the sheets. They weren’t touching, but they were close.

He thought he’d not be able to watch the movie, but he was. It was pretty good, even if the leading man wasn’t exactly what anyone would call handsome.

Of course, he could say the same of himself, but it had never really bothered him. A girl he’d dated in high school told him he wasn’t what one would call typically attractive, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to fuck him.

And he supposed that’s what he’d carried with him all these years.

He glanced over at Sansa, who was snuggled up under the blankets, her head on two pillows while her eyes fluttered closed and then back open again.

He found himself smiling despite himself. She really was adorable, wasn’t she?

Adorable and frustrating and gorgeous and wonderful.

And she’d as much as told him that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from fucking him if they’d begun anything. He wasn’t sure why that gave him a bit of relief, but it did. Likely because he’d been worrying about unrequitedly pining after someone, but it had turned out to be requited, so that was fine.

Well, it wasn’t fine, but it was something.

He went back to watching the film and waited until it was over to turn off the telly. She was fast asleep and he scooted back closer to his side of the bed to give her room and soon found himself falling to sleep as well.

* * *

When he woke up, he was warm.

So fucking warm.

His arms were sweating. Sticky. Stuck to something.

And his pillow smelled amazing. Smelled wonderful… he nuzzled down into it more.

His hips started rocking of their own accord and his cock hit something soft and warm. He was hard as steel, but it was the morning so that didn’t surprise him. But this was more, wasn’t it? It felt good. So fucking good.

His eyes flew open.

Sansa.

His arm was sweaty was due to being wrapped around her waist, beginning up under her shirt with his hand sliding down her belly to rest on her bare inner thigh. His other arm was under her head, and the scent was her hair, obviously.

And his cock… his cock was currently sliding along the crack of her arse and Drowned God, it couldn’t be happening.

He let out a huff of surprise and Sansa jolted, turning slightly to address the air above them because he was too damn close to her for her to be able to turn all the way to face him.

“Theon?”

He felt hot and burning and awful.

He jolted away. “I’m sorry. Sansa, I’m so sorry, I was asleep and I—“

“Theon…”

“After that talk we had last night, it’s not acceptable for me to be groping you and molesting you while we’re both asleep.”

“First off, not molestation,” she replied. “I don’t feel violated, do you?”

“No,” he said truthfully, “But I was terrified I’d done to you…”

“You didn’t,” she insisted, rolling over to face him. “I sort of liked it. Felt nice to be held.”

He closed his eyes. “But I can’t _just_ hold you, I apparently have to turn it into something—“

“Are you referring to your morning wood?’ she said, arching her eyebrow. “It’s not the intrusion you think it is.”

“Oh?” he asked, laughing without humour. “Please, tell me how my dick isn’t an intrusion.”

“First off, it’s made of blood vessels and human tissue. No matter how hard it is, it’s still just tissue. It doesn’t hurt me.”

He licked his lips and tried to will it away because it was going to tent the comforter if he rolled over.

“Secondly, I’ve never minded that from anyone. It’s kind of cosy, and also flattering, so I mean...” She shrugged.

This was how he was going to die. “Well… okay… I mean…”

“And I was warm. We didn’t have to move, did we?” That last bit was a whinge if he’d ever heard one, and he didn’t want to move away. But it wasn’t right, was it?

Why wasn’t it? She wanted it. _He_ wanted it. It wouldn’t go past this.

And his belly swooped and he was reminded of the thing he was trying to hide from her. _That_ would ruin it.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I don’t think we should,” he said softly.

She nodded and pressed her lips together. “That’s fair.”

And she rolled over, hugging one pillow close to her and placing the other between them. “The Wall,” she said. “Keeps the normal folks away from the frozen north.” She laughed. “ _I’m_ the frozen north in this case.”

He didn’t care for the joke. It wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to do this.

“Sansa…” he said softly.

“What?” she asked.

“Give me a second…” He rolled out of bed and made for the bathroom. He turned on the water with the intent to take a cold shower and will the erection away that way, but he knew the solution wouldn’t last for any longer than he was under the cold water. There was only one way he was going to get rid of it.

So he cut the water to the right, as was indicated by the ‘H’ on the handle, stripped off his clothes, and stepped inside.

It hit him sparsely, but hotels were never known for their water pressure.

It didn’t matter, though.

He reached down, wrapping his hand around his aching member and sucked in a breath as he moved it up and down. The ache was almost unbearable. The bright side was, it wouldn’t take long.

Theon bit down on his lip to keep from making noise as he went back to his usual repertoire of what he used to call his spank bank, but it felt weird calling it that with Sansa laying in the other room. Even in his head, so he stayed away from thinking the term and mentally shuffled through some of the images that usually got him off.

But he kept coming back to one.

Not even a real image. Nothing he’d ever seen before, just pure fantasy. That it was Sansa’s hand and not his, and she was in his lap, straddling him.

Gods.

He bit down harder on his lip and grunted, his hand moving quickly up and down his shaft, the warm water pelting him and making his hair drip.

Everything in him wanted to take it slow. To slow down and drag it out, but he didn’t need that. Well, not right now, he didn’t. He squeezed his eyes close and imagined her. Here with him. _Her_ hand squeezing and tugging and making him feel so…

“Gods,” he hissed, shaking as he ran his hand up and down his cock, working himself until he didn’t need to anymore.

He swallowed thickly and watched the evidence wash down the drain.

He felt…

Well, he still felt achy, but his cock wasn’t as hard anymore.

And it wasn’t how he clearly wanted it to happen tonight, but it would do. And he could go back out there and cuddle Sansa for the rest of the morning without fear of embarrassing himself. Or her.

He used the soap he’d brought along with him and quickly washed up, turning off the shower, he stepped out. He dried off as he could before getting dressed again and returning to the bed.

When he climbed in under the sheets again, she was looking at him oddly.

“A shower?” she said, questioningly. But he moved up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, hooking his chin over her shoulder, his phone in his hand while he started looking through Reddit.

“I think I smell better now,” he said softly.

“You smelled fine,’ she said with a sniff. “You didn’t need the shower.”

“Look,” he said, holding his phone down to show her a video of somebody tossing paint down onto a spinning canvas.

She turned in his arms and watched. “Wow… that’s pretty… is it on a drill?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, continuing to scroll while she watched, turning to lay her head on his chest.

She didn’t ask about the shower again, but he did show her things now and then. At least until she fell back to sleep again.

He let his phone fall to his side and closed his eyes, turning to roll her back to her side of the mattress, he’d say it was without thinking, but honestly, she was all he thought about so it’d be a lie. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, inhaling her scent before rolling back to his side.

His lips tingled where they’d touched her. His chest ached as he fought to keep from gazing over at her. It was still early in the morning and they had to go visit her parents later. He really should try to get some sleep again.

But he slept so much better in her arms.

There wasn’t anything for it. He’d have to make do with one of the hotel pillows.

Theon was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to fall asleep again, right up until his eyes fluttered closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5optD8nqIbUVs0a9V7vnhd?si=JUFvCUjNTE6-J9k76bcOvQ)!


	8. Sansa IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter was painful for me to write, simply because of how close it hits to home. I've added a few new tags. I also hope this hasn't come out of left field for Sansa as a character. I've tried to hint towards it a little in previous chapters. 
> 
> So anyway, in case anyone couldn't see this coming from a mile away: Cersei is a bitch.
> 
> Special thanks to treaddelicately for beta-reading this. <3 
> 
> Enjoy!

_I don’t have the best relationship with Cersei, but she did inquire as to my own designs and even invited me to share a few with her. She wants to feature my line in her boutique. Well, my potential line. Right now I’m just sewing things in my spare bedroom, but perhaps one day?_

_~Sansa_

* * *

Sansa took a deep breath and let it out again, trying to stop the grin from spreading across her face. She was nervous, sure, but she was also giddy with excitement.

The day had finally come. Her face-to-face meeting with Cersei Lannister. Sansa was one hundred per cent ready for anything that woman could throw at her. She had all new designs loaded into a presentation. She had a dozen or so sample pieces on hangers in the boot of her car, and she was about twenty minutes early to the boutique where Cersei wanted to have the meeting.

She stepped out of the car and went up to the front door of the shop, pulling the door open and entering amid the jingle of bells.

“Ms Stark!” a voice called out, and she turned to see a woman she’d never met before in person, but had spoken to many times on the phone. She’d spoken to her enough to recognize her voice.

“Shae!” she said, smiling widely as Cersei’s PA bustled over to where she was, a happy grin on her face as well.

“Hello and welcome!” Shae said jovially, reaching for both of Sansa’s hands and squeezing them. “I feel as if I know you already with all the talking we’ve done!”

“Same here,” Sansa replied, laughing. “Do you know where—“

“There’s a room in the back of the building. Break room normally, but she wanted to have your presentation here so we could look at the samples under the showroom light, you know…” Shae gestured vaguely. “You did bring samples, yes?”

“Oh, yes!” Sansa replied, grinning widely. “They’re in the car, I just wanted to make sure I knew where they were going before I got them—“

“Nonsense,” Shae said, snapping her finger in the air. Two girls appeared, and Sansa made a point to think of them in that way because they didn’t look a day older than sixteen.

“Go out and fetch Ms Stark’s samples from her trunk, they’re in the…” Shae trailed off and looked at Sansa expectedly.

“Oh, they’re in the blue garment bags. There are three of them.”

“Hear that?” Shae asked, nodding at the two girls, one of whom waited for Sansa’s keys, which she gave with a bit of trepidation simply because it was her car and she’d never willingly handed over the keys to someone she didn’t know before.

“It’s fine, they’re very professional,” Shae said with a smile, but Sansa couldn’t help but think it was a warning for the girls more than a reassurance to her.

The girls left and Shae led Sansa back to the break room of the boutique.

It was a misleadingly large room once one got inside, and there were racks inside for Sansa to showcase her samples and a dock for her laptop so she could give a presentation. So she quickly set up her laptop on the table. Shae showed her how to link it to the projector, which was set to project against a large white spot on the wall opposite.

While she did that, the girls returned, one of them leaving her keys to her left while they took the garment bags over to the racks.

Shae began unzipping them as Sansa finished up queuing her presentation and then walked over to fuss with each of the pieces.

Shae gushed over each one, as did the girls whose names she had yet to hear.

She hung up each of them around the room on racks to the best of her ability, and by that time, there were two minutes to go until Cersei’s arrival. It was Sansa’s understanding that she ran a tight ship and when she said nine in the morning, she meant on the dot. She was secretly proud of herself for getting the entire space set up in around twenty minutes.

Shae went down to start a pot of coffee and the electric kettle for tea.

The coffee had just started to drip fragrantly into the carafe when the door opened.

Sansa’s heart beat loudly, almost deafening in the quiet room as Cersei Lannister stepped inside. She was wearing a tight scarlet dress that hit just below her knee. It was tailored perfectly to her body, down to a tiny nip at the waist. She wore heels that made Sansa’s feet hurt just looking at them, and her makeup was impeccable. Her hair was short, severe, and perfectly coiffed.

Cersei arched a singular eyebrow and surveyed the room, a look of pure boredom on her face.

Sansa swallowed her nerves and smiled brightly. “Ms Lannister, I’m so happy to see—“

“Are these your samples?” she asked, not looking at Sansa as she strolled over to one of the racks.

“Yes, those are samples of a dozen or so of the designs I made. All new ones, as you advised…” She smiled and Cersei did as well, even though her smile had little to no mirth involved. She reached out to touch one of the dresses, her fingers trailing down the fabric to the hem where she flipped it over, peering at it.

“Did you sew this hem by hand or machine?” Cersei asked.

“By hand, but it’s easy to replicate on a machine,” Sansa replied quickly. “It’s a simple—“

“I didn’t ask,” Cersei cut her off and moved along the wall, gazing at the garments hanging on each. Sansa couldn’t help but notice how the two nameless girls practically trembled in Cersei’s presence. She was clearly a formidable woman. “You have a presentation of the others?”

“I do.” Sansa began the presentation. Designs flashed over the screen. “I wasn’t able to make the rest of the samples, but I have them in digital form and I can have samples made up as soon as I—“

“Stop,” Cersei said, extending a manicured hand and pointing up at the screen. “You don’t have that one here?”

Sansa gazed up at the screen, an offset trapeze hem shirt with a mustard and navy elephant print was up on the screen. She had the other colour options shown as well.

“I don’t, I didn’t have time to order fabric and—“

“It’s a shame. I would have very much liked to see those elephants,” Cersei said with a cool smile.

“The fabric’s on the way, I can have a sample as soon as—“

“Sh,” Cersei shushed her. “I’ve seen enough.”

“Oh?” Sansa was expecting it to take a bit longer than this, but maybe she already knew Sansa’s style from looking at just this. “Oh, alright, I—“

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we’re really looking for a new designer right now,” Cersei said with a sickly sweet smile.

“I’m… sorry?” Sansa asked. “I made almost four dozen designs for you, and you don’t like any of them?”

Cersei wrinkled her nose and shook her head, an infuriating smile on her lips the entire time. “I’m afraid not. You see, I had hoped you would have shown me something at least that I could have bought off you for my own line, but I don’t see anything worth the fabric here. I’m sorry. You’re just not what this boutique is looking for.”

Sansa swallowed thickly. “It’s… it’s… do you have any constructive criticism for me so that in the future I might—“

“You might want to consider picking up some talent,” Cersei said with a sharp bite at the end. “I’m afraid Instagram fame and haute couture just don’t mix. You might want to go back to reviewing face creams and leave the designing to the actual designers. Shae will help you pack everything back up. Have a nice day, Ms Stark.”

And with that, with all Sansa’s self-esteem and hopes pierced through and stuck to the impossibly sharp stiletto heels, Cersei left the room.

Sansa was rather certain that all the colour had drained from her face as she quickly disconnected from the network and closed her laptop, winding up her charging cord and pushing both into the bag she’d brought with her.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, Ms.—“ Shae began.

“Save it,” she snapped. “I’ve got these. No need to help me or anything.”

Shae didn’t heed her words, she came around to help anyway. She ran her fingers over one of the dresses. “I rather liked this one.”

“Thank you,” Sansa said, zipping everything up in the garment bags and folding them over her arm. She scooped up her laptop bag and slung it over her shoulder. Her keys were in her opposite hand as she pushed out of the break room and back into the store proper.

“Ms. Stark, let me help,” Shae insisted, taking the garment bags from her and following her out to the car. “It’s not your designs,” she said softly as their feet hit the pavement.

“Oh?” Sansa asked, concentrating on not bursting into tears right then and there. She could feel a ball of panic rising in her belly and she needed to get home as soon as possible to deal with it. Perhaps spend the day in bed with a tub of ice cream and a bottle of wine to try and forget the atrocity that was everything right now.

“No, your designs are lovely. She even said so when you sent the others. It’s _you_.”

Sansa let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, thank you. That makes me feel so much better.”

“No, it’s you she doesn’t like. She doesn’t like you. It’s personal. Not due to your talent. You have talent. If you were to take these elsewhere, you could find someone to carry your line, I’m sure of it.”

Sansa swallowed thickly. “Thank you, Shae. I believe I’ll take it from here.”

She dumped the three garment bags in the boot and slammed it.

“Chin up, Ms Stark.”

She looked at her for a long moment before unlocking her doors and sliding inside. “Shut up,” she muttered as she pulled on her seat belt.

Her belly rolled and she turned the key in the ignition, trying not to think about what had just happened and concentrate on getting home. It wasn’t far from here, she could likely get there and into the car park before her panic started taking over. She just had to be sure to get in the lift and out of it again before it truly set in. Or, best-case scenario, take a Xanax before she got there.

Fuck, this was awful.

She pulled out onto the road and took a deep breath, repeating her mantra over and over in her head. You are fine. This is fine. This isn’t the end of the world.

You are fine.

Of course, that only worked for so long before she started arguing with herself.

_I’m not, though. I’m not fine. I’m not fine. I did all this work. Twice. And she just tossed it out because of a grudge? Because she doesn’t like me? I thought the Lannisters were good business partners? Perhaps if you could procure one as your business partner, then maybe._

“This is fine,” she mumbled.

_It isn’t. I’m driving home mid-panic attack. I shouldn’t be driving. I should pull over and call Theon. Oh, gods, I can’t call Theon. If I call Theon, he’ll know. He’ll know I’m a failure and a huge mess to boot, and he won’t want anything to do with me anymore._

Gods, how could she have gone from having an almost perfect life that morning to an absolute mess in less than an hour?

This wasn’t the end of the world. Not in the most literal sense, it wasn’t. But fuck if it wasn’t the most gods-awful thing that had happened to her as of yet.

This was worse than when Joffrey had twisted her wrist until it popped and burned during the height of one of their fights. Worse than the time she accidentally saw Harry’s phone screen and saw all the women he was cheating on her with. This was worse than the breakdown she’d had in college where Arya had to come to pick her up from the library and force her into the shower.

This was worse than all of those because it was literally like getting the rug ripped out from under her and thinking she was about to hit the floor and instead, falling off a cliff.

Getting the rug ripped out wasn’t that bad. You only fell as far as the floor. But this rug rip had a surprising five-hundred-foot drop to the jagged rocks below and Sansa still felt like she was falling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” she whispered, stopping at the light nearest her flat and trying not to hyperventilate.

It was made all the worse by a group of teenage girls honking at her and waving frantically.

“SANSA!” One of them squealed. “SANSA!!”

She tried to force a smile and wave back, but it just wasn’t happening. She swallowed thickly and forced even harder. Her face hurt as she beamed over at them, likely looking like a fool, but they didn’t seem to care once they’d gotten the smile out of her.

The light then changed and she was able to leave them behind and move over into the turn lane and sit there with her blinker on, waiting for an opening to turn into the car park.

She sniffled loudly as she turned into the lane that would take her into the car park for her building. Theon wasn’t expecting her back for a few hours more at least.

What was she going to tell him?

Gods, this was the very worst thing that could have happened.

As she drove up to the kiosk where Bronn normally sat, she was surprised to see Sandor there instead. She didn’t remark on it, simply sniffled again and dug out her pass from her purse so he could scan it.

“You alright?” Sandor asked, brow knit as he swiped her card and handed it back.

She let out a shaky sigh and mustered the last of her wherewithal to give him a watery smile. “Fine, just had a bit of a wonky meeting is all.”

“You sure you’re alright? You look shaken,” he said.

“Never mind that, I’m home now. Shaken or no,” she said, realizing how high her voice got when she finished speaking. The lump in her throat was bigger now, almost impossible to swallow around.

It ached as she held out her hand for her card and he slipped it back between her fingers.

“Have a good morning, Sandor,” she said briskly and waited for him to raise the gate.

He did, even though he was giving her a weird look. Like he wasn’t sure she was alright after all.

She didn’t care, she just wanted to go home. She still had to ride in the lift and get past Theon without breaking down.

He couldn’t see her like this.

Sansa’s teeth clacked together as she clamped her jaw tight to stop the sobs that threatened to bubble up.

She couldn’t even think about the reason why. She could only think about making it stop. It had to stop. She couldn’t do this in front of him. Not when he’d as much as told her that he wanted something in the future when he was ready. When he was good enough for her.

That was a laugh. He was so far beyond good enough for her. She was the one who was a mess. Look at her, barely holding it together in the car.

She pulled into the parking place, easing in more carefully than usual because she didn’t want to mess up anyone else’s day just because hers had come crumbling down around her.

Sitting for a moment in the car before she opened her purse and checking inside for the emergency Xanax she kept in the coin purse part of her wallet. Of course, she hadn’t replaced it the last time this had happened, so it wasn’t there.

Damn it all.

She took a deep breath and picked up her purse and glanced in the back to see her laptop bag still there. It seemed monumental to pick it up and sling it over her shoulder, but she did grab it. It felt as if it weighed a ton, but she got it and her keys and keycard and locked the door, stumbling a bit on her heels as she made her way to the atrium where the lifts were.

She stood there in front of them for a long moment, staring at the button on the wall. The one she was to press. To take her up.

Up so high she couldn’t see the ground.

_No._

_No, no, no._

_Wrong. Unsafe. Dangerous. Please no._

“No,” she whispered. “Nope, no…” Instead, she went to sit down on the bench in the lobby.

She hadn’t made it home before it had fully set in. Damn Sandor for holding her up at the kiosk. Him and his bleeding heart. He…. He cared about her, and she knew that, but she couldn’t argue with herself very well when she got this way.

It was like watching a car accident happen in slow motion and being unable to stop it. It sucked, in a word.

She had to get upstairs. But she couldn’t go upstairs. The lift wasn’t happening. And the fire stairwell would take her forever.

Shaking more now, she went to search her purse for something. Even just a paracetamol tablet to trick her brain into thinking she’d taken the Xanax. It might work. The action of swallowing it might work. Tears squeezed out from the corners of her eyes and she let out a shuddering sob into the silent atrium.

No, it wouldn’t.

Her phone began buzzing then. And she jolted but calmed slightly when she saw the name on the screen.

Theon.

She sniffed hard to clear her nose and took a deep breath before answering. “Yes?”

“Sansa?” he sounded worried. “Sans, are you okay? Sandor said you got home twenty minutes ago. Where are you?”

It had not been twenty minutes. Had it? Fuck, she had no idea.

“I’m…” she trailed off. What should she tell him?

_The truth._

Every lie she tried to form just wouldn’t stick together in her mind, so she blurted out something that would.

“I’m having a bit of a panic attack and I’m stuck in the atrium and can’t get on the lift.”

She was surprised by how calm she sounded.

“Okay, okay… what can I do?” he asked.

“What?” she asked. “What can you—“

“Yes. What can I do? Is there something you take when you have these or some sort of breathing exercise?”

“I have… Xanax in my bathroom,” she said.

“Okay. Is the bottle where I could see it?”

“Medicine cabinet. Top shelf. Far left,” she replied, letting out a shaky breath.

“Sansa, deep breaths, kay?”

She nodded rapidly and then realized that he couldn’t see her. “Okay.” She inhaled deeply through her nose and a sob rang out in the atrium.

“Sans, I found them, I’m on my way down. Want me to stay on the line?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, feeling miserable and awful. Her inhales became quicker when she heard the beep of the lift door.

“Almost there. Two minutes,” he said softly.

“Kay,” she replied, almost giving in to the crippling pain in her chest that urged her to cry. To sob loudly. But anyone could walk in and see her. And then where would she be?

She’d be right back at the bottom of the hole she’d started digging when she was younger. When she started trusting pretty faces over her instincts. Fuck, she was so stupid to trust someone like Cersei. Even if Joff wasn’t involved, his mother was a wretched, wretched hag.

That wasn’t very kind to hags. But that was the only thing she could think when she imagined Cersei’s close-cropped hair and severe cheekbones. The kind of beauty women paid for. And yet, at that moment, she was the ugliest thing Sansa had ever seen.

She pushed the image out of her head because she was crying now. If not sobbing. She was letting out little sputtering gasps and Theon was saying her name in the phone.

“Sansa!” he said loudly.

“Yes, I’m here,” she said, her voice shaking and breaking up at the end.

“So am I,” he said, and the lift doors opened and she thought she might fall to the ground in relief.

But she didn’t have to. He came to her side in an instant, slipping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest.

She buried her face against his t-shirt and gripped the fabric in her fists as she let out a tiny mewling cry. Not the screaming, wrenching sobs that she wanted to let loose, but this helped a bit with the ache.

“Shhh,” he said softly, hugging her close and making her feel small and protected. He didn’t ask what happened. He just reached into his pocket for the orange medicine bottle and showed it to her. “These the right ones?”

She nodded. “Yes, Sorry… I…” she hiccuped and he shook his head.

“Don’t apologise. Need me to open it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He did but held the bottle out to her, and she pulled one of the tiny pills out and put it on her tongue, swallowing it back dry, which was ill-advised, but she didn’t have any water.

She put the cap back on them and dropped the bottle in her purse, realizing in an instant how much that was asking of him. To bring her the Xanax he likely didn’t even know were in the house.

“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered.

“No, no, don’t worry about it, love. Don’t worry. Wasn’t even an issue.”

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yeah. Never liked Xanax myself. Made me too tired.”

She laughed a bit. “They make me tired too.”

“Wanna go upstairs?”

She shook her head rapidly. “No. No.”

“Okay, okay. Shhh, we won’t…”

So they just sat there on the bench in the atrium and stared down at the patterns in the tile until her heart rate slowed and she sniffed loudly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he said.

“Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

“Alright, alright, let me just…” He held her hand and jumped up to push the return button before helping her to her feet. He took her purse and laptop bag, shooing her hands away when she tried to carry them.

The lift came and they stepped inside. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and felt Theon slip an arm around her waist. Not confining, not trying to take over, just letting her know he was there.

It occurred to her how much easier this was with someone else helping.

Arya helped some in the past, but she grew impatient with Sansa after a bit.

Theon hadn’t faltered once.

“How long has it been?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes from the time you got here to the time I called you. And another fifteen I spent in the lobby with you just now.”

She nodded and waited for the lift to come to a halt.

The doors opened and so did her eyes. She and Theon left the lift, and he led her back down the hall to her door.

She pushed it open and told him to just leave her things by the door and she’d get them later.

Sansa went out to the kitchen and got a bottle of water from the fridge and then stood stock still, gazing down at the sketches of her designs where she’d spread them out on the counter this morning before leaving for the ill-fated meeting.

A sob bubbled up again and Theon was there, wrapping her in his arms and saying her name over and over.

“Sansa… Sans, what happened?” He looked down at the drawings but apparently couldn’t find any answers there.

“Cersei,” she said thickly, sniffing again.

“Let’s sit down,” he said, leading her to the sofa.

She lay back against the cushions before curling in on herself and sobbing softly.

“Love, can you talk to me? Tell me what’s happened. What did Cersei do?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Nothing?” he repeated.

She nodded. “I went in for the meeting this morning. I even got there early to set up. And I set up in the room in the back of the shop. Her assistant even helped me!” Her chin wobbled and she set her jaw tightly so she could keep on talking. “I had all the samples I’ve sewed set out and on hangers… I left those in the car just now… I was in such a hurry to leave, I just threw them in the trunk…”

“What did Cersei do, Sans?

“I told you. Nothing. She came in, looked around. Told me I had no talent and left.”

He frowned. “She what?”

“She told me they weren’t looking for a designer currently. That she’d hoped to buy one of my designs for her own line, but nothing I’d brought in was worth the fabric. Told me to stick to Instagram and left. Her assistant finally told me. It wasn’t my designs. It was me. She doesn’t like me...”

She sniffed and Theon handed her a tissue seemingly out of nowhere.

He was silent. Stoic. Frowning? She couldn’t get a read on him.

She dabbed at her eyes and found most of her eyeliner had come away with the tissue. Probably why Sandor had looked at her so strangely.

“So she basically jerked you around for months, made you redesign the entire line, sew as many samples as you could, only to insult you and leave?”

Sansa sniffed and nodded. “I know I’m a fool for believing she wouldn’t do exactly that, I’ve been thinking it since I left,” She teared up again and Theon pulled her into another embrace. This one so tight she could barely breathe, so she just clung to him, her tears wetting his t-shirt as he held her.

“You’re not a fool, Sansa,” he whispered. “You just think the best of everyone. It’s not a failing. Cersei’s the one with the failing.”

“But I should have known,” she wailed. “I should have known, everyone warned me, and I put all my hopes on this and now it’s not happening, and I haven’t really lost anything, not really, but I feel so tired, Theon. It’s exhausting, and—“

“No, you did lose something. You’ve been talking about this since before I came to live here. And Sansa, I’ve held my tongue because you were so excited, but now that this has happened, I can’t hold it any longer.”

“What?” she asked, sniffing.

“You don’t need that bitch for anything. You’re the one with hundreds of thousands of followers. You’re the one they want. Not that washed-up lioness.”

She attempted a small smile. “Theon—“

“No, I mean it. You don’t need her. Do it yourself.”

She snorted softly. “Theon.”

“I mean it,” he said.

“Theon, you’re holding me far too tightly to keep this up,” she said, coughing a bit.

“Oh, right… sorry… and I’m rambling. You don’t need that right now, you need… what do you need?”

He peered down at her, locking his sea-blue eyes on hers and making her giggle despite what had happened. “You want something sweet…”

 _I want you…_ She thought to herself, but only to herself. After this display, she very much doubted Theon would want anything to do with her in that way.

“Waffles?” he offered.

“It’s well past breakfast time,” she said.

“Waffles with ice cream,” he said definitively.

She sighed softly because, yes. That sounded heavenly. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.”

“Not chocolate, though,” he said, pushing up off the sofa. “Strawberry ice cream and lemon waffles?”

“Flip it,” she said with a grin. “I have lemon meringue ice cream in the freezer.”

“And strawberries, if I’m not mistaken…”

She grinned and quickly picked up the tissue to wipe at her eyes again. “I’m going to go wash my face… freshen up a bit… I’m a little bit…”

“Sleepy?” he filled in for her. “Want to wait? I can make them after you take a nap or something.“

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Might be sleepy, but I’ll always eat waffles.”

Washing up didn’t take very long. Or perhaps it did and she just wasn’t aware of it. Regardless, the food wasn’t finished when she returned to the kitchen, so she figured she hadn’t been gone too long. She pulled herself up into a stool by the counter top. Her head was getting heavy as she sat there, but she propped her head upon her elbow and watched him work.

He had on one of those muscle shirts she secretly loved because it showed off his shoulders. Plus the gentle bulge of his biceps. Now, Theon’s biceps weren’t like Gendry’s, but she wouldn’t hold that against him. Few people were blessed like Gendry was.

They were perfect for him, though.

She let out a breath and suddenly choked.

She’d let him _see_. He’d seen her breaking down. Crying about going into the lift for fuck’s sake!

Gods, he’d never want anything with her now. Now that she’d proven she wasn’t stable. She wasn’t the soft landing he very much deserved after the fall he’d had.

She coughed and he turned around. “You okay?”

She sniffed and nodded, trying to will the tears from returning to her eyes, but she couldn’t. A few dripped down over her cheeks and he set down the knife he was using on the strawberries and grabbed a towel. “Sansa?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” she said, not sounding very convincing even to her own ears. He looked worried, likely worried that she’d descend into the blubbering mess she’d been downstairs.

“You’re not… what’s wrong? Same as before? Do you need a lie-down?” he asked softly.

“No, no… I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I could have a lie-down with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

She didn’t. She didn’t want to be alone.

But she still shook her head. “No, it’s—“

“For every _fine_ you lie about, I’m going to remove strawberries from your waffles,” he warned.

She broke into a grin at that. The idea of him digging strawberries from her cooked waffles was giggle-worthy.

“Seriously, I’ll do it. I’ve got nothing better to do. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I just…” she hid her face in her hands. “You’re not… you don’t want me now.”

“What?” he asked.

“You don’t want me now,” she repeated and felt his hands encircle her wrists and gently tug them down.

“Look at me, Sansa,” he said softly.

She did, her eyes clouding with tears the longer she did.

“Silly girl,” he said softly. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”

“I’m a mess,” she sputtered. “I’m not stable. I have panic attacks and become terrified of my own flat. I… I fall apart at the slightest provocation and—“

“Alright, but what Cersei did wasn’t slight,” he argued.

“No, but it shouldn’t derail me like this. I should be able to pick myself up and do something else. Failure isn’t an excuse.”

“Alright _Catelyn_ …” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” she asked.

“That. You sounded as if you were being puppeted by your mum. First off, this isn’t a failure. Second, this would derail anyone. Myself included. The fact that you’re still standing is admirable.”

“I’m barely standing. In fact, I’m sitting,” she replied.

“Still,” he said, taking both of her hands in his and squeezing. “I don’t know what you’re on about, me not wanting you. You’re a strong woman who had a setback. You’ve not changed in my eyes. I still find you admirable and wonderful and various other adjectives that will start becoming repetitive if I keep on… And as far as being a mess…” He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Crying is something people do. Like laughing or sleeping or whatever. It doesn’t change the way I see you. Which is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

She inhaled sharply and sniffled, another rogue tear dripping down her cheek. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Well, it’s the truth. You might be a bit… damp and red, but you’re still bloody breathtaking, Sansa Stark.”

She inhaled deeply. “You too. Except for the damp and red part…” She smirked and he sighed, cupping her face with both hands and pulling her close, but tipping her head down at the last minute so his lips pressed to her forehead.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his lips against her forehead. “I didn’t want to kiss you like this… not because of you, but because of me.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, giggling a bit when she heard how it came out.

“What isn’t?” he sighed. “But you’re under the influence again and I won’t have our first kiss happen like that.”

“Under the influence?” she asked. “Oh you mean the night I went out with Yara and Arya… you wanted to kiss me then?”

“It’d be easier to tell you when I didn’t want to kiss you.”

Whether or not it was the sort of conversation they should be having, it was helping her feel a bit better.

“But enough about me. I believe I promised you waffles.”

“You did.”

“And I don’t want to start a precedent of failing you, so you remain here. And no more tears until I’m finished.”

“When you’re finished, I can resume my sobbing.”

“Yes. But I’d like to see you sob while eating these waffles. Pretty sure it’s not possible.”

“Oh, I’ll take that bet,” she said with a grin.

“You’re on. What’s your wager?”

She thought about being cheeky but remembered what he said. She was under the influence.

“Loser pays for pizza?”

He smirked. “You’re on.”

Theon finished chopping the strawberries and dumped them into the waffle batter.

Sansa licked her bottom lip and dragged her fingertip on the countertop, tracing the pattern in the granite. The scent of waffles wafted over from the iron and she propped her head upon her hand. “Those smell good.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said, walking over to the freezer to pull out her lemon meringue ice cream and set it on the counter to thaw a bit while he finished her waffles.

It didn’t take too long, just a few minutes and two waffles later, she had a plate in front of her, ice cream dripping into the little crevices of the waffle.

She took a bite and moaned into it, which made Theon glance up, eyes searching hers. “You okay?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “These are so fucking good.”

He chuckled and dumped some of the batter into the iron for himself. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Me too. These are amazing,” she said and he laughed again for some reason. She wasn’t particularly funny. Or so she thought.

She _was_ starving, though. It was noticeable with the way she was shovelling the food into her mouth. She got brain freeze from the ice cream once, but that was before she realized that she had to spread the ice cream out so it wasn’t so cold when she ate it. After she realized that, it didn’t take her long at all to finish the plate.

She got down off the stool and took her plate to the sink to rinse it off. She was feeling sleepy now and was yawning in the middle of running the water, so Theon took it from her and turned her in the direction of her room, but she only made it as far as the couch, landing on the soft cushions and sighing.

“Want me to stay with you?” he asked. She heard herself say yes. And he sat down on the other side of her.

So she pushed up and landed in his lap. Or her head did. She was vaguely aware of him lifting her to put a throw pillow under her head, but then everything went blissfully black.

* * *

Sansa woke up and it was afternoon. She knew that because the sun was nowhere to be found and that meant it was on the other side of the building. Sitting up, she stretched. “How long was I out?” she asked, pushing up to a seated position.

“A few hours. Give or take,” Theon replied.

“Give or take what?“ she asked, laughing.

“A few hours,” he replied, grinning.

“Gods, Theon. You could have woken me up. Or you could have gone somewhere else. You didn’t have to sit here and be my pillow for hours.”

“I didn’t. I’ve been up and down a lot,” he said, laughing. “You didn’t even notice.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m probably never going to sleep tonight.”

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“When are you going to sleep?” she asked.

“Sometime soon,” he said. “Not like I have a very labour intensive job or anything.”

She sighed heavily. His mention of a job got her thinking again about the thing she didn’t want to think about.

“What am I going to do, Theon?” she asked.

“What you always do,” he said.

“What? Review face cream on Instagram?” she asked bitterly.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I want to design my own line,” she said, sounding whiny even to her ears.

“So do it,” he said.

She laughed. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll just call up textile-people and get them to make my line. And I’ll market it myself and make my website. And host it. And shoot photos of models _I_ hire. Wearing _my_ designs. It’s not a big deal at _all_.”

“First off, you have hundreds of thousands of followers, Sansa. They all buy the cosmetics you tell them to buy. Or you wouldn’t be making money off your Instagram.”

“I mean… yeah?” she said, looking around the apartment that her Instagram account had bought.

“Secondly, websites aren’t that hard. There are entire companies who build them for you for the cost of a domain and a monthly fee. Not a big deal at all.”

“I guess…”

“And you know people in textiles. Because you were ordering custom fabric. So you know the industry.”

“Yeah… but I have no models.”

“You have friends. Sisters. Sister’s _boyfriends_.”

“The photos themselves, I’d have to hire a photographer… and rent equipment…”

“Am I some kind of joke to you?” he asked, and she turned to look at him, almost laughing at the sincere look on his face.

“You’re serious?” she asked. “You’d want to take this on?”

“Absolutely,” he replied.

“One hundred per cent?” she asked.

“Yes. What’s a photoshoot? Point and snap at people,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind. I am going to rent some professional equipment though.”

“Oh that’ll be misery and woe for you, won’t it?” She leaned over and checked his shoulder. “You think my friends will model my clothes for me?”

“Sansa…” he countered. “I think they’ll jump at the chance.”

“Who can I call?” she pondered, pulling out her phone. “Arya… maybe she’ll let me make her some clothes… Walda Frey and I did a co-op series last year, maybe she’ll want to model some of it… I wish Marg wasn’t so anti taking pictures right now… Gendry could model some of my masculine pieces… Missandei followed me back and messaged me a while ago, maybe I could ask her?“

Theon smiled and sat back on the sofa. “So you’re doing this?”

“Do you think I can?” she asked.

“Do you?” he countered. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” she said definitively. “Yes, I can.”

“Then you are,” he said, grinning widely.

She leaned over against him once more. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For believing in me.”

“You believe in me, it’s the least I could do.”

She remained flush against him and he lifted his arm and tucked it around her shoulder and squeezed slightly.

“You know nothing you do is the least you can do, Theon.”

He rested his head on hers. “Wanna watch TV?”

“I should go sew some more samples, but I’m still a little pill drunk, so, yeah.”

She pulled her legs up with her and curled against him, freezing for a moment to see if he’d be okay with it. He shifted to make her more comfortable,so she smiled and snuggled down against him.


	9. Theon V & Sansa V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm sorry this took so long. This chapter gave me so much trouble.
> 
> I want to thank semperlitluv for helping me fix my outline and this kiss (yes they finally kiss!)!
> 
> As always, thank you to treaddelicately for her awesome beta work and support on this chapter and all of the others as well!
> 
> I was going to wait until tomorrow, but it's ready now and I'm a ho for that comment-serotonin bc everything just sort of fell apart this afternoon, so YAY you get a chapter early!!! 🙃 🙃 🙃

**THEON**

* * *

Theon ran water in the frying pan and set it to the side of the sink to let it soak a bit before he finished washing it. The rest of the dishes were in the dishwasher, so he went ahead and started it.

Sansa was sitting perched on one of the stools nearby, a half-drunk cup of coffee by her side as she scrolled on her laptop. “Oh, this one!” she said, pointing at her screen excitedly.

They’d had a modelling shoot the previous weekend with a few of her friends wearing some of Sansa’s designs. He’d taken the week to get the shots edited and now, Sansa was looking through them.

Theon came around and peered over at her shoulder. “Oh, you like that one? I thought it’d be this one…” He pointed to another with the same subject, but a slightly different expression on her face.

“No, this one has a more genuine smile than that one,” she replied. “Missandei does this thing with her eyes when she smiles for real. You caught her laughing there, it’s breathtaking.”

“Well, you are the one with the eye for these things,” he replied, drying his hand on a hand towel before returning it to the handle of the oven. “Just pick whichever ones you like, and I’ll airdrop them for the website listings.”

“I’m nowhere _near_ ready for listings yet,” she said softly, continuing to scroll.

“That’s okay, I just figured you’d want them close by for when you do need them.”

“Thank you, Theon,” she said simply. “Is it alright if I look at the rest later?”

“Oh, definitely, yeah, I just… sorry. Am I rushing you?”

“I mean, a little, but it’s alright.” She had a warm smile for him as she closed her laptop and reached for her mug. “I’m just… so much farther behind on this website coding than I thought I’d be. And I don’t get to work on it tomorrow or Sunday at _all_ since we’ve got Callum’s brunch to attend at Winterfell.”

“We don’t have to go to that. Robb and Marg said it was just your mum’s doing.”

“I know, but…” she protested weakly. “Gods help me, I love that little tuber-baby and I want to be there for all of his things. I’m his auntie. I have to be there.” She stuck out her lip a little, looking positively adorable and Theon knew he couldn’t argue that topic any further. They were going and that was that. He decided to change tactics. Something had to be delegated.

“You can still hire someone to code the site for you,” he offered. “If that would help mitigate things.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t just mitigate, it’d neutralize my stress right now, but…”

“But?” he asked, leaning against the countertop. In a way that he hoped wasn’t threatening or menacing. She’d been so jumpy lately, misunderstanding him to the point where he’d had to insist she take a breather and think because he wasn’t trying to make things difficult for her.

And she always told him she knew. She knew. But it was just… hard right now.

And he understood it, he did. But he also wondered if he’d somehow brought this out in her by encouraging her to take this on. The website. The business. Her own line. When he’d suggested it, he’d meant take the year and do it, not plan for an online store opening in a month.

It felt as if it were too soon. She was moving too fast. And she was running herself ragged. She’d sewn all the prototype designs by hand and altered them to fit the models they’d chosen for the shoot. And she’d done it all in about three twenty-hour sewing sessions spread across the week before the shoot.

Her friend Missandei had graciously agreed to model for her if she promised to model for her the next fall. 

Sansa had begrudgingly agreed, but only fully committed to the shoot when Missandei asked Theon to work the camera for her. It was sort of blindsiding, _and_ his first paying job. Her business manager had already reached out to discuss his rates.

That had been a fun twenty minutes, furiously researching rates for other photographers while pretending he knew what he was doing, nay, did this all the time.

Never mind that he didn’t have a press kit to email to them, which should have included his rates. Neither did he have a website where they could check his rates or look at his portfolio. All he had was an Instagram account with entirely too many followers for what he had posted there, which consisted of the photos he’d taken of Sansa at the beach that day when he thought everything was going to crash down around him.

Those got quite a bit of attention, especially the one he’d shot of Sansa with her arms outstretched and hair billowing behind her.

And then she’d tagged him in a few candids from the photoshoot, so he gained a large chunk of followers from that. Normally, he preferred staying behind the camera, but when she had her arm around him, everything seemed to get easier.

Of course, then reality smacked him in the face. He had the makings of a business he needed to get off the ground. But he couldn’t really think about that right now. Mostly because it made his head spin to think that anyone wanted to _look_ at his work, let alone pay him to do it.

It felt like all he was doing was taking photos of his friends. Other than Missandei, who he’d only just met at the shoot, Arya and Gendry also came and modelled. With the former being a bit more hesitant than the latter. At least she was until Sansa revealed the clothing she’d designed especially with Arya in mind. Then, she’d been a bit more willing to get in front of the camera.

But after a few hours goofing off with his friends, they were all oohing and ahhing over the rough cuts he’d loaded onto Sansa’s laptop, and patting him on the back and hugging his neck for helping out and it all sort of melded together. The professional and familial qualities. It was weird but in a good way?

He’d resolved to help Sansa’s business get off the ground before he even attempted anything more with his, however. Either out of the desire to help her or his own imposter syndrome, or a bit of both, that was what he’d decided.

All in all, everything looked wonderful, it was all lining up.

But she was starting to fray around the edges and it worried him.

Sansa was annoyed more often than not lately. She got annoyed at her laptop, at the programs she was using, but the one that seemed to hit the hardest was her newfound annoyance for him whenever he deigned to try to help her. She was frustrated with him ‘treating her like a useless child’, but then got irritated with him for urging her to take care of herself, “nagging” her to turn in at a reasonable hour. 

She sometimes stayed up all night. Theon knew this because he was with her when she did it, trying to coerce her into eating and drinking by cooking constantly. After all, the smells broke her concentration so he could get her attention in a way that didn’t vex her too terribly.

He’d actually vented to Robb about it recently and was informed that he, himself, used to act the same way when he was deep in a project for art school. It was par for the course with many creative types, apparently. The knowledge didn’t help him feel any less frustrated, though.

It was obnoxious and tiring. For all parties involved. Obnoxious, but of course he didn’t care to do it.

At least, he didn’t when she wasn’t snapping at him. Even with all her exasperation, she usually erred on the side of sarcastic, so her words bit, but only just. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, growing up practically alongside all the Starks. He’d been informed he was his own brand of salty, anyway.

But as luck would have it, the most recent development in Sansa’s many qualms and quarrels was her new propensity to grump at him, which was distinctly different from snark. Snark usually had a bit of a lift at the end. Grumping had no such lift.

And the second she’d say whatever it was, she’d feel remorseful and apologise. It didn’t hurt him in the slightest. If anything, it caused her more upset than him.

Which was why he was suggesting that she hire someone to do this for her. This launch had so many other moving parts, why not delegate a bit of the stress? Spread it around so to speak?

“If I did, I’d have to relinquish control, and then they’d do things I wouldn’t want, and I want this a certain way, so it’s just easier if I do it,” she said quickly, reopening her laptop again to open her web design program.

“Want some water?” he asked, walking over to the fridge to pull one out for her.

“Eventually,” she said, and he placed it on the countertop for her, walking out of the room to go find something to do elsewhere. He’d go check on her in a few hours.

* * *

It was after lunch when she finally closed her laptop and sighed heavily, propping her head upon her hands. 

“Wanna talk about it? I’ll be your rubber duck,” Theon offered from where he was lounging on the sofa.

“No,” she said softly. “I just need a break.”

He didn’t want to smile about it, but one tugged at his lips anyway.

“What do you want to do?” he asked as she came over to sit beside him on the couch. She reached for the remote wordlessly and turned on the television.

This bit of companionable silence got them through an episode of the mini-series she’d begun the day before, but soon, her stomach growled and so Theon asked the question anyone would ask.

“Hungry? Want me to start dinner?”

She nodded. “If you like.”

“What shall I prepare?” he asked. And if he’d known four words were going to cause her so much stress, he wouldn’t have asked at all and simply gone out to the kitchen to prepare what he’d been planning on preparing anyway.

But he was trying to be helpful.

“Gods, Theon, I don’t know,” she sighed, clearly exasperated beyond all hope.

His eyebrows raised. “Is it too much to ask? I thought you’d have an opinion.”

“I just… _gods_ , I’ve got so many decisions to make and you want me to make another one?”

His mouth hung open for a long moment. “Do you want me to choose?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “I suppose I could have just said that.”

“No, it was apparent. I just wanted to clarify.”

_Underneath all that, she’s still Sansa. She’s just Sansa who is trying to launch a website and business in a few weeks. It would drive anyone to this._

Theon repeated that in his head and glanced back at her as he went to the kitchen and pulled out some chicken to cut up for dinner. There was an acorn squash on the countertop, so he went to scrub that and slice it in half so he could roast it. He made a quick coconut chicken curry with the chicken and then proceeded to cook some rice as well.

He’d timed it well, because everything was ready at around the same time, and he had it on plates on the counter a few minutes later.

“Sans? You still hungry?” He asked.

She inhaled deeply and let it out again before pausing her show and rising from the sofa. She took a seat beside him at the counter and picked at her food, eating the squash and rice and not touching the chicken, which he knew for a fact she liked because he made this at least once a week.

“Is there something wrong with your—“

“I don’t much feel like curry tonight,” she replied simply.

“Oh, well, I did ask what you wanted, and you had no opinion, so I simply chose to make what I’d already planned.”

“I know. I just figured you wouldn’t make the absolute last thing I want to eat right now.”

“My apologies. I’m not a mind reader,” he said, his tone a bit shorter than he was trying for, but he was only human.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m not that hungry.”

He bit down on his lip for a long moment so he wouldn’t say anything back to her. This, he’d seen before. He’d have to double down on insisting that she get some help with the website before both of them went insane.

After they were finished, he took her plate and scraped her curry into a fridge container before washing them in the sink, leaving them to dry and running water in the other two pots and pans he’d used for dinner.

“Are you just going to leave those there as well?” she asked sullenly.

“What?” he asked, depositing her leftovers in the fridge.

“Those pans. Are you just leaving those there?”

“They’re soaking. They clean better when they soak for a bit.”

She hummed and looked down at the countertop in front of her, tracing the pattern with her index finger.

“That okay?” he continued.

“Mmhmm,” she said, nodding.

The air was prickling and Theon wasn’t sure, but he didn’t feel like it was okay.

He picked up a rag and went to wipe down all the counters. “So what do you have left to do today?”

Asking that question was mistake number two. Or at least the second mistake he’d made that he was aware of.

“Well,” she said, sounding as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. “I have to finish the code I started, but before that, I suppose I have to finish up the dishes that you left ‘soaking’ over there.”

Theon stopped wiping the counter and glanced up at her. “Sansa, I’m going to do that.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I am. I always do before bed. We’re leaving for the weekend tomorrow, I would never leave them sitting there all weekend.”

“Well, maybe they’re bothering me just _sitting_ over there?” she countered. “Like, I know the water in the one is just cold and greasy and ugh, and I can’t stop thinking about it just over there getting grosser and more disgusting and—“

“I’ll do it when I finish up here, okay?” he asked, cutting her off. “Promise.”

She was silent for a long moment, but her eyes followed him as he moved around. He tossed the rag into the sink and leaned against it, taking a big breath before making his third known mistake of the evening.

“Do you think you might want to take a Xanax?”

She was quiet. So fucking quiet after he’d finished speaking. He almost thought she hadn’t heard him, or perhaps that she’d already left. But then he turned, and she was still there, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe what he’d said.

“I’m sorry,” she chuckled humourlessly. “But are you asking me if I need to go take a pill?’

“I just thought, you seem more than a little stressed. And usually, when you are stressed, you take one and it helps. I was only trying to make a suggestion.”

“So, when my moods become too much for you to handle, you want me to take a pill and fix it? Is that what you’re saying to me?”

“That is in no way what I am saying, Sansa. You know damn well I’m not. It’s just that I am doing the same things I do every day, and you are throwing a giant strop and trying to pick fights with me and I’m not taking the bait. I am fully annoyed now. I am still here for you, still care about you, but I am annoyed, Sansa.”

“Fine. I’m going to my room if I’m so annoying,” she said, pushing back the stool roughly and climbing down. 

And he didn’t mean to say the next thing out loud. But he did.

“Good,” he said bluntly.

He closed his eyes soon after, wondering why in the fuck he’d said that. She could have just gone to bed and he could have cooled down and apologised and she would have done the same. And it would have been over.

But he had to go and smart off to her as she was leaving to prolong the entire ordeal.

Fuck.

He could practically hear her turning around. He swallowed and turned himself, staring her right in the eyes.

“Could you repeat that, please?” she asked. The forced platitude made it sting a bit more than it normally would have.

_Under no circumstances do you make this worse, Greyjoy._

He raised his voice just a bit and spoke loudly, clearly, and very slowly. “Good. You could do with a nap. You seem cranky.”

_Damnit._

Her mouth fell open and her brow damn near jumped off her face. But she only stayed that way for a moment. Then, she set her jaw and exhaled, walking over to begin washing the pans.

He knew a lost battle when he saw one, so he let her do it, deciding to instead, deep clean the entire kitchen and perhaps that would get her off his back. Or at the very least, it’d give him somewhere to put this nervous energy he had yet again.

She washed the pots and placed them all in the drying rack before washing her hands and drying them. She needed the towel that was on the stove handle to complete that last task, of course, he was standing right in her way as he wiped down the range.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her.

She took forever to take it from him, and by that time, he’d dripped something from the grimy sponge he was using to clean the stove onto the range top. Swearing softly, he went to get a paper towel to clean it up.

“Sansa, what do you want me to do? How about we start there? I’ll do whatever you want to help you finish what you need to finish. What can I do?”

She wrenched the towel in her hands. “How about you clean the entire kitchen on a Friday night? That’ll definitely get my website made in time.” It wasn’t a snap, it was a snark, but regardless, his nerves were frayed to bits.

Theon sighed heavily and finished cleaning the range. And after that, he tossed the sponge into the sink and stalked out to the balcony.

“Where are you going?” she asked, and he paused, his hand on the sliding door as he thought about what to say.

“To scream into the void,” he deadpanned, slamming the sliding door behind him.

Or attempting to do. It sort of bounced a little and opened again, so he had to slide it shut carefully and turned around to gaze out into the night sky.

Yeah, it was petty of him to come to the one place she likely wouldn’t follow him.

But that wasn’t what this was. He wasn’t trying to get away from her. He had a car if he needed to do that.

He didn’t want to leave her alone like this. But it was getting to him. All of it. He wasn’t sure how to come back from it. He’d sort of made things a bigger mess by being a smart ass, but it was sort of his go-to reaction. He hadn’t been really using it in the past few weeks, but he was tired, dammit.

She was too. If she’d just admit she needed help and let him help her. All he wanted to do was help her.

And kiss her. He wanted to kiss her.

Gods, it almost hurt not to kiss her, but he was fairly certain she wouldn’t be up for snogging when she was so upset all the time.

He sighed heavily and stared out into the sea. Drowned God help him, this was a mess.

* * *

**SANSA**

* * *

When he slammed the door, a sob wrenched up from the deepest recesses of her body. Her sadness reserves, most likely.

And she made for her bedroom door, which was where she should have gone, to begin with. But she wasn’t expecting him to snark at her like that. And she wasn’t one to back down when challenged, and now Theon wasn’t speaking to her. Retreating out to the balcony for a bit of peace and quiet away from her.

This wasn’t her. This wasn’t how she wanted to be. She didn’t want to be this person.

She swallowed quickly and flopped back on her bed, the sob not really breaking through like she expected it to. It was just one bubble of sorrow that popped and now it was gone.

Her phone was on the charger and she picked it up to call the only other person who fought with their significant other on the regular. Well, it wasn’t really fighting. With them, it was foreplay, so she wasn’t sure how big a help Arya would be, but she was calling her anyway.

“Hullo?” Arya answered. “Didn’t expect to hear from you tonight. What with your request that I bugger off and stop bothering you so you could finish your coding before you had to spend the whole weekend with me.”

“Yeah,” Sansa said quietly. “About that. I’m sorry, Arya.”

“What’s wrong?” Her sister asked immediately.

Which made Sansa laugh a bit, which wasn’t a help at all.

“Nothing,” she lied, but Arya could tell she was lying, so it was wasted breath for her to lie, but it felt odd just coming out with it immediately. “I’m just sorry.”

“It’s something. You’re calling me on a Friday night sounding all sniffly. Are you sick? Gods, are you dying?”

“What? No! I just… Gods, Arya. No, I just… Theon and I had a row.”

“Oh,” Arya sighed in relief. “You had me worried. Over a row?” She sounded almost amused.

“Yes. And what are you thinking? I can tell you’re thinking.”

“I thought you guys were still in the honeymoon phase. You don’t have rows during the honeymoon.”

“We’re not in the honeymoon phase. We’re not in the _anything_ , we’re just… having a row.”

They weren’t in anything. They’d sort of put everything on hold since she’d started doing all of this. And… she wasn’t exactly happy about any of it. None of it made her happy. Not even the prospect of finishing her website. Because after that, it was just a never-ending list of things she still had to do. Adulting sucked hard. She missed only having relationship problems.

She missed only being a horny mess whenever Theon took his shirt off in front of her. Now, she was a horny, grumpy, existentially anxious mess that didn’t know what she needed to feel better.

Well, she had one guess, but she’d probably just fucked that all to the seven hells with her stroppiness.

Why did she waste all her tantrums in her youth? This deserved a tantrum, but she wasn’t about to have one.

“Well, there’s your answer there. You need to shag,” Arya said bluntly.

“ _Arya_ ,” Sansa groaned. Mostly because Arya was, as always, right on the money. If Sansa and Theon had just shagged instead of literally anything else today, they’d both be a lot more chill and relaxed. He wouldn’t be out on the balcony trying to avoid her at any rate.

Arya sighed heavily. “Okay, okay, what was it about? The row, I mean? I’d like to add that I desire for just one of our conversations to pass the Bechdel test, but apparently, that’s not going to happen today.”

“Sorry, we’ll have a good conversation soon.”

“Once you get laid, yeah, I know. Marg and I have good conversations all the time because we are both getting laid.”

“And you both have a similar relationship with Mum,” Sansa added.

“That too.”

“Okay, so here’s what happened…” Sansa recounted the entire day, wincing every time she got to her part in it. She’d really just been an awful bitch to him and he’d been so lovely…

“Gods, I’m terrible,” Sansa groaned.

“No, you’re not. You’re just… super stressed, Sansa. And Theon held his own. According to your rendition.”

“What do I do?” she asked, groaning again as she fell back on the pillows. “And do not say shag him. Because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me to look at him right now.”

“Theon wants you to look at him always. He adores you. This isn’t going to phase him. He just needed a break. It happens. But knowing that you don’t want _that_ advice, I’m going to tell you that you already know what you need to do.”

She did.

Sansa had a card for a business manager on her dresser. The contact number for a Daenerys Targaryen. She’d gotten the card from Missandei. Ms Targaryen came highly recommended by her friend. She offered website services, as well as practically doing all the grunt work that bogged down Sansa’s day. Contacting manufacturers, textile reps, samples of finished products, as well as organizing her schedule and keeping her updated on all of it.

A business manager came with a price, but not one Sansa couldn’t afford.

“I should hire that woman Missandei told me about. I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

“Or someone like her. If she’s not a good fit, then, by all means, don’t worry about shopping around until you find someone. But for all our sakes, Sans. Find someone. And then I do think—“

“If you say I should shag Theon, I swear to the gods.”

“I think you should _talk_ to him.”

“Oh.” She could do that. “Apologise?”

“Definitely. Give him ice cream or something. Rub his back. I dunno. Do something nice because he deserves it. I mean, you do too, which why I think you should shag him, but—“

“ _Arya_ ,”

“I hear you. Thanks for my help. You’re going to talk to your man who isn’t your man.”

“He is,” she said softly. “My man.”

Arya chuckled. “Gods, you’re adorable. Go. Talk to your man and make-up. Kiss and make-up.”

Sansa was about to groan again, but the thought was a heady one.

She _could_ kiss him. He could kiss her. They could kiss each other. Nothing was stopping them except… them.

Sansa swallowed thickly and sat up on the bed. “Thanks, Arya.”

“No problem. Love you, sis.”

“Love you,” she replied, ending the call and rising to her feet. She went out into the living room and saw he was still on the balcony.

And she made a decision. She was going somewhere she had never been. And she was going to be with him.

* * *

**THEON**

* * *

He heard the door start to slide open first, and it scared the fuck out of him. He was out on the balcony, plenty cooled down now and chewing a stick of gum to get the curry taste out of his mouth. And then the phantom doors started moving.

Except it wasn’t a phantom. It was Sansa.

Sansa.

His eyes widened when she stepped out onto the balcony, pressing her lips together and staying comically close to the doors, but reaching her hand out to brush against his shoulder.

He met her in the middle, taking her hand in his and going to her.

This was a big deal for her, coming out here.

“You alright?” he asked, wanting to pull her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure how it would be taken. So he had to settle for words instead.

“Yeah…” she said hesitantly. “I mean… this is… whoa… we’re really up here, aren’t we?”

He smiled and stepped a little closer, mostly to block the view so she wouldn’t stare at it and freeze up. “Yeah, it is. I would have come inside to talk if that’s what you wanted… I didn’t come out here to get away from you. I just needed a mo.”

“I know. I just wanted to come to you,” she said softly.

“You didn’t have to,” he replied.

“Yes, I did,” she said. “Because I’m the one who needs to apologise, so I should come to you.”

“Sans…”

“Let me talk first, and then… then you can, but Theon, I’m going to explode if I leave this one second longer…”

He closed his mouth and squeezed her hand.

“Okay, so like…” she sighed. “I am going to call Daenerys Targaryen tomorrow. Missandei gave me her card and she’s a business manager, and she’ll take over all the website stuff and interpersonal stuff and leave me to just… design.”

“Sansa,” he began.

She held up her hand and shook her head. “There’s more. I’m so sorry, Theon…” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was such a bitch today and the past few days… _weeks,_ and you’re a saint for putting up with me.”

His brow knit, but he didn’t speak, simply pressed his lips together to keep himself from talking. He had something to say but was polite enough not to interrupt. He wasn’t, but he was making the effort. Hopefully, that was enough.

“Dinner was lovely, I love everything you cook, I was just being a snot. A stroppy little snot who doesn’t deserve you or anything you do for me.”

“Sansa, stop, you’re not— well, to be perfectly blunt, you _were_ throwing a strop, but you’re not a snot, and you do deserve happiness, and you certainly aren’t a bitch, and I’m sorry for being an asshole earlier. I had no reason to be that way, I was antagonizing the situation and—“

“Theon…you’re salty. You always have been. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it.”

He chuckled and tugged her arm a bit so she was standing close to him. Her hand came up to press against his chest and he inhaled sharply at her touch. “I’m still sorry, Sansa. Forgive me?”

“You have nothing to apologise for. And already done.”

“Same,” he said.

“Honestly… when I get this way, we need a sign that you’ve had enough so it doesn’t get to this point anymore. Something you can say or do to just… stop me in my tracks and reset…”

“I could kiss you?” he offered, smiling at her. Because he wanted to so badly it hurt. His lips were tired of not being against hers.

“I mean, yeah, that’d work…” she mused. “Something just so I know that we need an aside, and maybe, I dunno…”

She continued talking and he tried to catch her eye because he was fairly certain he was leering at her now, but she wouldn’t look at him. She’d said yes to a kiss, though. So she wanted him to kiss her.

He leaned down and kissed her soundly on the lips, interrupting her words, but she didn’t seem to mind. She inhaled sharply, groaning a little into his mouth as she wrapped both arms around him. He did the same, hauling her close, flush against him while his lips softly explored hers. Her bottom lip was especially plump, and he’d been dreaming about it for months now, about sucking it into his mouth and nibbling just enough to make her giggle.

He’d heard her giggle before, but it felt different muffled against his mouth and clearly aroused.

A sound akin to a moan grew in the back of his throat and she swallowed it down, her tongue coming out to swipe along his lips, which he parted immediately.

Gods, he wanted her.

Right here.

Except that’d be surely some sort of condo violation. And she’d likely want to go inside now. Off the balcony.

He broke off the kiss and she chased his lips, giving him such a feeling in his belly that he very nearly let her catch him. “Are you alright with this?”

“What? Theon… I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages…”

“No,” he laughed. “I knew that. No, I meant the balcony… Do you want to go inside?”

“Oh that. Gods, yes,” she said, sighing in relief as he went to pull the door open for her.

She went inside and yanked him in after her.

He slid the door closed and took her in his arms again, dipping her back slightly as he found her lips once more.

“Theon,” she began, but he cut off the words. Her hands were in his hair, tugging, but never hard enough to make him think she wanted to stop. “Theon,” she began again, before giving in to his lips, sighing and pressing fully against him. Allowing him to plunder her mouth as he’d wanted for so long. It was a messy sort of kiss, all teeth and lips and tongue and desperate need.

But she’d tried to say something twice and he should get control of himself.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “What were you trying to say?”

She smiled then, her lips pink and flushed from his ministrations. “Nothing important, but, we should go sit down.”

“Couch?” he asked, not sure he could make it much farther without just collapsing and taking her with him.

“Yes,” she said, taking a step and they both sort of tumbled onto the couch, him on his back and her on top of him. She straddled his hips and pressed her entire body against his, kissing softly along his neck and jaw.

Goosebumps broke out where she touched him, even as her hand went up under his shirt to press against his stomach.

“Sansa…” he whimpered.

“You like neck kisses?” she asked, running her tongue along his jaw.

“Fuck, I like _your_ kisses,” he replied, practically melting into the sofa.

His hand smoothed down her back, over the swell of her bum, which he squeezed, causing her to grind down against him a most delicious way.

And then, her stomach growled.

Speaking of an entirely different kind of delicious.

He chuckled and broke off the kiss. “Hungry, are you?”

She sighed, levelling a Look at him and making him want to kiss it off her face. But she hadn’t eaten earlier. She was likely hungry. And call him selfish and a bit egotistical, but the plans he had for the rest of the night necessitated a lot of energy.

“If only you’d had dinner,” he said thoughtfully, kissing her lips. “Surely you didn’t turn down food that someone cooked for you… because you are clearly hungry and a hungry person wouldn’t.”

She kissed him again, her tongue sliding along his bottom lip. “I’ll show you hungry.”

“Okay… I’m sure you will. But first, you really should eat something, yeah?”

She pouted. “Fine.”

Gods, she was adorable. He kissed her again, which was a mistake because while she was adorable, she was also a damned temptress who had his number after only snogging for a little while, and he wanted more than anything to let her hands slide down the front of his trousers, but his desire to take care of her won out on his desire to fuck, and he shifted under her, pushing her up so her upper half was no longer pressed against him.

“Come now, love. Let me feed you something. What do you want?”

“Something quick,” she said, arching her eyebrow. She shifted to let him get up and relaxed on the sofa while he stood and began to walk towards the fridge.

“I could make something really long and involved,” he drawled, opening the door. “How do you feel about Osso Bucco, Sans?”

“Theon Greyjoy, if you make me wait any longer, I’m going to--”

“Hold that thought. I’ll roast a chicken.”

She groaned and he laughed, pulling out her leftovers. 

“Is that from earlier? Just give it to me. I’ll eat it and then go brush my teeth.”

“Let me heat it first,” he said, grinning as he slid it into the microwave.

“Theon,” she groaned.

“Fine, fine. But eat it slowly. I’d rather if you didn’t puke on me if things get rowdy.”

“Oh my gods, just give it.” She yanked the bowl out of his hands and began to eat the curry.

At a normal speed.

He sat down on the sofa opposite her and propped his hand under his head. He’d mean to gaze longingly at her, but she kept cutting _her_ gaze over to him and he had a lot more fun attempting to make her laugh.

“I hate you,” she said, finally finishing the food and running some water into the container, only to leave it in the sink.

He got up to follow her.

“You don’t either,” he said, watching her as she left the container in the sink. “Gonna let that soak?”

“Get over here, you ass.”

“Aren’t you going to brush?” he teased.

“Trying to talk yourself out of getting laid over a little curry breath?” she asked, smirking.

“Not at all, I just figured you’d feel better if you brushed. I don’t care. I ate it for dinner as well.”

She reached into one of his pockets, and then the other, fishing out his gum. “Knew you had gum.”

“Aww, what gave it away?” he teased.

She chewed a stick and pulled him close by the neck of his t-shirt. “Theon. Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, giving himself over to the kiss. And to everything that came after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5optD8nqIbUVs0a9V7vnhd?si=8hV1SBpJSN-sq6hIE8kfKw)
> 
> Let me know if you liked it!


	10. Sansa VI and Theon VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay sorry for the delay, things have been weird here lately, plus I've had a toothache that basically made me useless for a week, so I got super behind on everything... ugh. Anyway, I am back with Chapter 10, and it's FINALLY TIME, you guys!
> 
> FINALLY.
> 
> Did I mention FINALLY?
> 
> Special thanks to meilan-firaga, semperlitluv, and treaddelicately for helping me work through this chapter bc it was so very important to their story and I hope hope hope I did alright here.

**SANSA**

* * *

Theon’s mouth moved against hers and Sansa was the one who broke off the kiss to whisper against his lips. “I think I need to shower.”

“Shower?” he rasped, chasing her kiss as she pulled away, catching and almost convincing her that a shower wasn’t really necessary, but from the second it had become clear that this was going somewhere other than desperately snogging on the couch, she knew she probably should. She’d been moping around the entire day.

“Yes, I… I should probably take one,” she replied.

“I could come to take one with you,” he offered, and arousal bloomed anew in her belly as she nodded.

“Yeah, come with me,” she echoed.

“Yeah?”

She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly before turning and pulling him along to her bathroom.

Sansa turned on the water so it could take the necessary time to heat up. And when she turned back, Theon was there, his hand sliding around her lower back to pull her flush against him.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat, and he clutched her tighter in response. “Sansa…” he murmured. “You’re sure this is okay? I can leave you alone if you’d rather I—“

“Theon,” she replied. “I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

“Thank the Drowned God,” he murmured under his breath, reaching for the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it up and over her head. She grinned as the fabric cleared her face and fell to the floor. She then went for his as well. He lifted his arms to aid its ascent over his head and she pressed both hands against his chest as he gathered her up in his arms again, his skin was warm where she touched him and she raked her gaze over his torso, up to his throat, which bobbed as if he could tell exactly where she was looking. She leaned over and sucked softly on his neck.

“Sansa,” he whispered. “You’re not making this easy on me, are you?”

“On the contrary, I think I’m being _very_ easy for you.”

The double meaning of her words wasn’t lost as he pushed her trousers down over her hips. They fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, reaching back for her bra and unhooking it. As it fell forward, his words caught in his mouth, and all he got out was “…For me?”

Smiling, she reached for him, undoing his zipper and button on his jeans and reaching boldly inside to wrap her fingers around him. “Only if this is for me.”

“Gods, yes…” his eyes fluttered closed. “God, Sansa, that’s all for you.”

After that, there was a flurry of movement as they shed the rest of their clothes and stepped into the shower. Which wasn’t frigid, but still wasn’t quite warm enough. Neither of them seemed to care. It would get warmer the longer they were in there, anyway.

Sansa stepped backwards into the streaming water, and Theon followed, reaching out and cupped her breasts as soon as they were both inside, the glass door of the shower swinging closed behind them. Her nipples pebbled under his touch either from the temperature of the water or the fact that Theon was finally touching her.

“Theon,” she murmured, stepping back and taking him with her into the stream of water.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured reverently, his eyes raking over every square inch of her body as she reached down to take him in hand as well.

The water made everything slicker, but she could tell by the sounds he was making in her ear that it would have felt fine without it.

She turned to catch his lips and stroked him slowly, swallowing his sounds as he made them and finally kissing down his jaw to centre over his throat. He’d really seemed to like that when she’d done it before, and Sansa was nothing if not a quick study when it came to things like this.

She leaned back against the wall of the shower, and he pressed one hand on the wall behind her to hold himself up as she moved her hand a bit faster up and down his cock. His hair was dripping wet in his face as she kissed along his slick skin, sucking softly and then a bit harder when he moaned.

Gods, she wanted more of that sound.

She sucked a bit harder than before and he _whimpered_. He ducked down, capturing her lips when she finally let him go, his hand moved down to her hip and began to slide further to centre between her legs.

 _Fuck_ , she’d sort of forgotten that he could touch her as well, she’d been so focused on him that it had slipped her mind that she was also here. Also needing his hands on her as much as he did hers.

“Theon,” she hissed, pressing her lips firmly to his for a moment before releasing him to rest her head on the wall behind her, a moan bubbling up from her chest, lower than she usually sounded, and he smiled.

“That’s it,” he said, his fingers sliding against her and finding her clit with almost practised precision, rolling it slowly and making her groan. “Let me hear you, love… there’s no one else here.”

“Gods,” she rasped, reaching down to grip his forearm as he turned his hand over, palm up to her, crooking two fingers into her quim and centring his thumb over her clit.

It was slippery with the water, and she gave him what he wanted, his name on her lips as he worked her over with his hand.

He kissed her gently everywhere he could reach. Her neck, her earlobe, her lips, her forehead, all while fucking her very soundly with his fingers.

She gripped his forearm with both hands and squeezed. “Wait…”

“Hmm?” he stopped immediately, freezing in place.

“Don’t want to cum yet,” she said, face reddening as the water pelted them both. At least it was plenty warm now. The steam was clouding the room and gave him a very hazy halo as he gazed down at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Why not? I’m almost certain I could do it more than once…”

“No, I just…”

“I’m not that out of practise, am I?” he teased, kissing her lips before she shook her head.

“Oh no, you’re wonderful. I just… it’s been a while for me and we’ve sort of been… so I’m…”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Horny?”

“Theon…” she swatted his arm and he chuckled, she felt it reverberate through him as he slid his fingers out of her body, bringing them up to his lips so he could suck her taste off them before pressing his forehead to hers.

“No, I get it. You like being teased,” he said, smirking.

“I mean… doesn’t everyone?” she asked.

“I dunno, but I do know that most everyone wants what they want…”

“So do I. What I want is for you to…”

“Tease you until you’re begging for it?” he filled in breathlessly, kissing her lips. “I think I can oblige, love.” He stepped back, turning slightly to get the water to flow over his head. She watched as it ran in rivulets down his body.

Over his chest and down his belly, wetting the trail of dark hair that led from his navel down further to where it got thicker. To his cock jutting out proudly in front of him.

She knew exactly what she wanted to do to cool down, and sank on her knees in front of him, reaching out to curl her fingers over his hip as she moved up close to him, his breath caught as he reached down to run his fingers through her hair.

“Sansa, you don’t have to…”

She wrapped her fist around the base of his member. “I don’t want this to be over yet,” she said, licking her lips and leaning forward, sucking him into her mouth, and hearing an absolutely lovely moan bubble up from the depths of his soul, it sounded like.

“Fuck…”

She drew him in softly at first, sucking a bit harder. He leaned into her a bit more as a result, his other hand extending to press against the tile on the back of the shower, while the other one tangled in her wet hair. She ran her tongue over the tip, around before back up to swipe the salty fluid that beaded at the tip the more she touched him.

“Sansa… seven fucking hells… fuck.. That feels… God, Sansa…” His hand grasped at the back of her head and his hips moved slightly forward and back, and she felt him stiffen even more in her mouth before pulling back and holding her head in place.

“Gods, that felt… come here…” He pulled her up to her feet and kissed her firmly, his cock pressing against her belly and getting trapped between them. His skin was hot, so fucking hot against hers as he kissed her, his fingers going back down to her cunt and sliding into her opening with hardly any pretence.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured, pressing one hand beside her head on the tiles and she scrambled to wrap her fingers around his bicep with one hand and gripped his opposite forearm with her other one. As his hand began to move, she went up on her tiptoes as he began to finger fuck her, crooking his fingers more and looking for something. For that spot. The spot he found almost straight away. The one that made her yelp and dig her nails into his arms.

He hissed as he slid his fingers in and out, barely brushing her clit with his thumb before moving it away. Every brush of his fingers over that spot made her gasp.

“Wait, wait…” she whimpered, her body clenching around him as he slid his fingers out again, sucking them into his mouth. “Let me wash my hair and then…”

“Then, I’m taking you on your bed,” he told her. “Because I’m just about to explode and I want to return the favour.”

She grinned. “ _Theon_ …”

“Wash your hair. Meet me out there,” he said, kissing her and stepping back out of the shower.

She had never washed her hair more quickly than she did right then. Sudsing it up and rinsing it off only to step out of the shower and take the towel he’d left there for her.

She wrapped it around her body after drying off her hair and body as best as she could, stepping out into the coolness of her bedroom, suddenly blindsided by Theon, pulling her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He lay her down on top of the comforter and tugged the towel open before climbing up with her, melting into her embrace smoothly as he dipped down to kiss her.

He brushed his lips over hers, moving down her jaw and throat until he was kissing her collarbone. He looked up at her and experimentally went further, and she subtly nodded, he continued, kissing over her nipple and sucking it into his mouth to draw on while he shifted to place his knee between her legs.

He didn’t remain long at her breasts, instead moving down over her belly and between her legs.

“Theon…” she whimpered, wanting him so badly, but he didn’t come up when she pulled him. Instead, he nuzzled between her legs, inhaling deeply and moaning on the exhale.

Her body shook as he pressed between her thighs, tongue licking experimentally until he found her clit.

He fluttered over it, circling it until her thighs clenched and then he backed down once more.

“Sansa…” he moaned against her, his hands moving to the undersides of her knees and pushing them back and up to spread her more open for him.

He flicked his tongue over her clit and she nearly sobbed out, her hands going for his hair and tangling in it.

He made these sounds when he was licking her… fuck, it was so hot. Soft, almost too soft to hear, but when he bore down on her, he grunted in the back of his throat, and it was liable to send her over the edge with just that alone.

Her toes curled into the mattress and she gripped the back of his head. Not to hold him there, but just for something to hold onto. “Gods,” she gasped, her hips rocking slightly up to meet his face. He swore against her, the words muffled against her body, but she heard it anyway.

“Fuck… Cum for me,” he rasped. “This time, cum for me, Sansa.”

He swirled around her clit, releasing one of her knees to bring two fingers up to press into her. She felt him wriggle them inside, finding no resistance as he worked them in, crooking them up to find that spot that he’d found in the shower.

“Theon,” she moaned. “Oh gods, Theon, don’t stop.”

He moaned against her, sucking her clit into his mouth softly, the sound wet to her ears, but so, so good all the same.

This time when he flicked his tongue, she felt something inside her release, and she curled her toes even harder into the mattress. “Oh fuck… fuck fuck fuck…”

Her body pulsed around his fingers and he let out a sigh of relief as she chased her pleasure, and he dragged it out, finally sliding his fingers out of her body with a grin before sitting back on his knees.

His face was wet and shiny with _her_ , and he wiped it on the back of his hand, grinning widely as he gazed down at her.

He moved to her right side, turning so he could gaze down at her.

“So, uh… that was… was that good?” he asked, reaching up to hold his jaw and crack his neck. “For you, I mean?”

Sansa laughed and rolled onto her side, coaxing him to lie back on the pillows. She slid her leg up over his hips once he’d stilled. She could feel his very stiff erection pushing against her inner thigh, and he shifted around so it wasn’t poking her so much. She had a clear view of his profile this way, and she watched his throat bob before he repeated himself. “I mean… was it?”

Sansa sighed, coming to a stark realization about Theon’s generally cocky attitude about sex. It was just an act. Come to think of it, she had known that for a while now in the abstract, but seeing it in action, she could really tell. He needed to hear it.

“Couldn’t you tell it was good?” she asked, dragging her fingernails over his chest and craning her neck to look up at him.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Well, it sounded good, but I wanted to make certain. I can always get better. Plus, I might be a bit rusty, considering my dry spell, so if it wasn’t as good as it could have been, I can do better…”

“Theon, if that was rusty, I might have to quit my job and just let you do that to me all day,” she teased, rolling until she was straddling his hips, his cock trapped between them.

“I would, you know,” he murmured softly.

“We’d never get another thing done.”

“I’d get _you_ done,” he teased, pushing up on his elbows so she could reach his lips for another kiss.

She brought her hand down between them, wrapping around him and thrilling at the way his breath hissed out when she touched him. “That feels amazing, Sans, but… I don’t think I have anything, I should have thought to buy something…”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’m on the pill, but if you’d think you should wear something, we can wait. I can put my mouth on you again?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, I mean, I’m clean. I just figured you wouldn’t want to risk anything else… I mean… Callum’s fun and all, but I’d like to find out how fun _you_ are before— I mean… in general or…”

Watching him flounder was adorable, but she took pity on him at the fourth ‘or’.

“Theon… relax. I get what you’re saying, and I understand.” She kissed his lips. “But I wouldn’t mind if any children I had in the future had your eyes or your smile, just saying…”

She sat up then, stroking him up and down between them. “So… shall I use my mouth or—“

“I love you,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to blurt that out just now, I just… Gods, Sansa, you’re so wonderful… too wonderful… I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and it was my own. I kicked it off and over my head just to kick my own ass, I’m…”

“I love you too, Theon, stop it.”

She still had his dick in her hand when she bent over to kiss him. He kissed her hungrily and she swiped her thumb over his cock, spreading the fluid that was there.

“I want you,” he murmured against her lips and she was pretty sure there wasn’t anything hotter in this life or any other one than Theon Greyjoy whispering that he wanted her. Right now.

She rose and slid his cock against her sex, slotting him in her opening before she bent forward, her hands resting on his chest as she slowly sank down onto him.

There was a slight stretch, he was likely bigger than anything she’d had inside her body in a good long while, but it was a _good_ stretch. Fuck, it was good.

“Sansa…” he murmured, his head falling back on the pillows while his hands clutched at her hips. “Gods… fuck….”

She smiled as her hips met his and he let out a low sound that was honestly better than anything she’d ever heard before. She leaned down to kiss him as she started to move.

She pressed her hands on his shoulders and used the leverage to rise up and down on top of him. He groaned loudly.

“Sansa… fuck… I’m not going to last…”

“You aren’t supposed to, I don’t think…” she teased.

“No, I mean…” he gripped her hips and held her down. “I’m going to embarrass myself, just kiss me…”

“You feel so good, though,” she whispered against his lips, rocking her hips a little just to catch that spot deep inside her. “Is that okay?”

“God, yes…” he whisper-moaned into the room. “Fuck, yes… Sansa… I do love you…”

“I know…”

“I just… I didn’t want you to think that just because I’m touch-starved or whatever that it’s anything other than absolutely genuine affection for you. I can’t tell you when it started… but it’s there now…”

“That’s usually how love happens, Theon,” she rocked shallowly on top of him, wanting more than anything to feel him let go and relax his grip on her hips so she could take him to the place he was clearly trying to delay going. “Gradually, a little at a time…”

“No, I mean… I might have always loved you a little bit,” he whispered, his hands loosening on her hips, so she started moving up and down, up and down. “God,” he let his head fall back as she moved. “Sansa, I’m about to…”

“Go ahead… cum for me, Theon…”

He gripped her tightly, but this time, instead of hindering, he was pulling her back down as she pulled up, creating a tempo and rhythm that would have smacked her headboard against the wall if her bed wasn’t located in the middle of her room.

“Gods,” she whispered.

It felt good, yes. She wasn’t going to cum like this, but gods, he was beautiful. He flushed right down his chest and the veins in his forearms stood out as he gripped her hard, fingers digging into her arse.

When he came, his eyes opened wide, like he was surprised, but in a wonderful way. “Fuck…” he groaned. “Fuck… yes… Sansa…”

She smiled as his eyes closed and he bit down on his lip, reaching for her with one arm, panting as she bent forward and kissed him.

“You didn’t…” he whispered.

“I did before,” she reminded him.

“Still though… I wanted to get two out of you before I did…”

He sounded disappointed, but she just giggled and kissed his jaw. “You were lovely.”

“Was I?” he caught her lips and sucked on her bottom lip. “Truly?”

“Mmm,” Sansa hummed. “What shall I do to prove it?”

He rolled her over on her back, kneeling between her legs as he leaned in, kissing along her jaw and down the column of her throat. “Nothing, love. You never have to do anything again, just let me worship you…”

She giggled. “You drive a hard bargain, ser.”

He chuckled and nuzzled against her skin.

She inhaled deeply, her hands coming up over his back, fingernails dragging and making him shiver and push into her. She could feel him, not quite soft yet, but not as hard as he’d been either, pressing against the juncture of her thigh. There was sweat cooling on his lower back as she trailed her fingertips down his back and over his arse, gripping it hard and rocking up against him.

“Fuck,” he swore. “I love you.”

She pushed up on her elbows to meet his lips. “I love you too.”

“Might be good to go again in about a half-hour or so,” he murmured. “Would you be up for that?”

She nibbled on his bottom lip. “What do you think?”

“That you might actually be insatiable…”

“Nah… I’m satiated right now, but I’m not going to say no to more if you want to give it.”

“I’ll always give you more, love. You should know that by now.”

“So come here, then,” she said. “I’d quite like a cuddle.”

“I think I can manage that,” he said, rolling over onto the bed and extending his arm to the side so she could curl up against him. She rested her head on his chest, curling her arm around his waist as his arms tightened around her.

“Probably should have asked for a damp cloth before the cuddle, now that I’m thinking about it,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I’ll get it in a second. Let me just… catch my breath. Regain the feeling in my legs.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shameless, Theon.”

“What? Excuse me, that was bloody fantastic. I gotta take a moment.”

“Just one, or…”

“A moment, not a minute, Sansa. Do I have to explain the difference, love?”

She giggled and nuzzled against his throat. “I’d quite like that, yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he stated. “And I love it.”

“I hear no explanation, Greyjoy,” she replied.

“In a minute.”

“A minute, or a moment?”

“ _Sansa_ ,” he sighed in mock-exasperation.

* * *

**THEON**

* * *

The next morning came too quickly. It felt as if he’d only just closed his eyes, and his abs and thighs were still a bit sore from using muscles he hadn’t used in quite a while, but her alarm went off precisely when it was supposed to.

She groaned and reached over to hit the snooze. “Ten more minutes…”

He smiled and reached up to brush her hair out of her face. They’d fallen asleep with her on top of him sometime around one or two in the morning, but now he was big-spooning her. Her arse was pressed against him.

Instead of going back to sleep, however, she grabbed his hand and brought it around her waist to press down between her legs.

He chuckled and kissed her neck as he slid his fingers against her, finding her slick and hot against them.

“Don’t think we have time… should probably shower…” he whispered.

“You can be quick, can’t you?” she asked, reaching around her body to wrap her fingers around his cock, which, while stiff in the usual morning-wood sense, had rapidly hardened to full mast within seconds of her hands on him.

“I can, but I don’t want to leave you without—“

She rolled onto her back, her legs hooking over his hips so his cock could brush against her slick folds once more.

He grinned and pushed in, doing as she asked, rolling two fingers against her clit and feeling her start to pulse around him in a few short minutes, which only made him want to chase his own orgasm as well. Which he did.

“Shower?” he rasped, she nodded.

“Shower.”

This one was certainly different than the one the night before, both of them were rushing to get clean so they could get ready to go to Callum’s brunch at Winterfell.

“So um…” he said as he stepped out of the shower a few minutes after her, wrapping a towel around his hips and strolling over to the vanity where she was lightly blow-drying her hair over a round brush. “What are we telling your family?”

“About what?” she asked, talking a bit louder than usual, likely due to the hair dryer.

He shot her a look. “About us?”

She smiled and turned off the dryer. “I know, I just like you referring to us as an “us”.”

It made warmth bloom in his chest when she smiled at him like that. “Me too, but… what are we telling them? Want me to pretend nothing’s going on?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Never again.”

“So we’re telling… _everyone_?” he asked, glancing into the mirror for the first time, his eyes widening when he saw the dark mark right there on the side of his neck. It was purplish-red and right where Sansa had been sucking on his throat the night before. “Look what you did, you little vixen…”

She frowned and turned to look at his reflection in the mirror, her eyes widening. “I did not!”

“You did so, with all your kissing and sucking my neck. Look at that. I don’t think I’ve had a hickey since high school…”

She rolled her eyes and set the round brush down, coming around to look on her own. “I could _not_ have done that…”

“And yet, you did. Because I certainly didn’t do that.”

“I could cover it. I’ve got foundation.”

“You’re going to put makeup on me?” he asked, laughing.

“Yeah. If I have something close to your skin tone… unless you’d rather sit in a car with that hickey and Arya for the next few hours.“ She grabbed his hand and led him out to the bedroom, pushing him down in one of her vanity chairs, sitting nude in the one beside him and turning on the light ring around the mirror. He blinked at the harsh light, which made the hickey seem even darker somehow.

“Okay, so just let me see what I have here.”

He quickly became more than a little preoccupied with how her breast was brushing his arm as she looked at all her products, holding some up to his neck and even going so far as to test a bit before wrinkling her nose and wiping it all off with a wet wipe. She grimaced and met his gaze. “You’re a different shade than me…”

“Are you serious? I’m stuck with this thing for your baby nephew’s brunch?”

“How are you about wearing scarves?” she asked. He shot her a blank look and she changed gears. “Turtlenecks?”

“I’ll just wear what I was planning on wearing and hopefully no one will notice.”

“Everyone will notice that…” she said, sucking air through her teeth. “Guess I got a little carried away…”

“Hey, no worries. Please continue to get carried away.” He grinned and she swatted his shoulder playfully, standing and walking over to the dresser to pull out a pair of knickers. He turned and sat for a long moment, watching her pull on her underthings until she turned back toward him and caught him staring. She was hooking her bra behind her back when she said it.

“Better get dressed, there. _Spot_.”

“Hey…” he said, standing. “This is your fault.”

“I don’t recall you complaining at the time… In fact, I feel like you were begging me for more… weren’t you? Or am I recalling that incorrectly?”

He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re not. And don’t worry, I’m still not complaining.”

She reached down and untucked his towel. “Go get dressed so we can get on the road.”

He stepped back away from her, the towel falling from his hips.

He smirked and strutted from the room down the hall to where he kept his clothes, even after she threw the towel at his retreating back.

“You never said what we were going to tell everyone,” he called, pulling on his pants and a pair of jeans.

“We just tell everyone. I don’t want to hide this, do you?”

“No,” he said, a little surprised that she didn’t. At least from Cat. Sansa’s mother was going to burst a blood vessel, as Arya was so fond of saying.

“Good. Me either.” She smiled at him from the door of his room as he pulled his shirt on over his head.

He sat down to put on socks and shoes, pushing up and bouncing on his toes. “Want me to drive?”

“In your car?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, in my car.”

“Okay,” she said. “We have to go pick up Arya and Gendry on the way, is that alright?”

“I mean, she’s going to razz me for this hickey.”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight at the hotel,” she said, grinning. “I packed my tiny knickers.”

“Oh?” he looked down at the bag she’d slung over her shoulder. “Are they in there?”

“Yep,” she said, popping the p.

He wasn’t aware of what any of her knickers looked like, save the two pairs he’d seen on her, and the ones that were in her laundry basket every now and then, but he had a very active imagination.

“How am I supposed to make it through brunch now?” he asked, grinning as he grabbed his own bag, throwing a few clothes into it and grabbing his wallet and keys to shove into his pocket. “Also, isn’t there a gift for Callum around here somewhere?”

“Oh, right! Thanks for the reminder. I’ll go grab that if you’ll just… ” She held out her bag and Theon took it, placing it beside his own while he got his wallet, keys, and phone.

After, he took the bags, waiting for her in the hallway while she flitted around turning off the lights and things, fiddling with the thermostat as she tucked her own keys into her purse and met him at the door, the gift bag in tow, as well as a smaller bag that contained some of her makeup.

She had her makeup bag with her. “I’m gonna put this on in the car.”

“I’ll make sure and go over every speed bump, then. Hit the corner on two wheels,” he teased and held the door open for her.

“Thanks, I love a challenge,” she quipped in reply, hefting the gift bag and her other two bags as well. He reached out to take them, and she only relinquished the purse.

She locked the door and stepped out, waiting for him to pull it closed. He stepped closer to her, kissing her lips softly.

She started to deepen the kiss, but her phone rang and she had to answer it as they went for the lifts.

It was Arya, wondering where in the seven hells they were. Her voice carried even though Sansa didn’t have her on speaker.

“We’re on our way, leaving just now,” Sansa said.

She was silent as he pressed the down button, but Arya sounded like an angry little chipmunk.

“Arya… shut up.” Sansa rolled her eyes. “And I have to let you go, we’re getting on the lifts now.”

The doors dinged.

“See? There it is now. We’ll see you in a few min— In a few— bye, Arya.” She hung up the phone and dropped it into her purse. “Honestly…”

Theon smirked and hit the button once they stepped inside.

Sansa scooted closer, her hand coming out to brush at his before grabbing it in hers. “What’d she say?” Theon asked, smirking a little.

“She asked if we were late because your dick was in my mouth,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I mean… not just then, it wasn’t…” he mused.

She gave him a look. “It wasn’t making us late.”

“It sort of did…” he said, grinning.

“Well, sort of isn’t the same as actually being the reason. I think my parts were just as much to blame.”

“Oh no, no, no, you are mistaken,” he said as they stepped off the elevator. “Your parts are never to blame. Never ever. They’re perfect and—“

She pulled him close, kissing him quiet. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he said, liking how the words felt in his mouth. It felt like missing pieces locking into place. It felt… Drowned God, it felt good to get those feelings out, even though he hadn’t really realized he was having them until he blurted them out the night before.

But still, it felt good. And right.

He squeezed her hand and they started walking toward the car.

He got everything into the boot, including the very heavy gift bag that Sansa informed him was the beginnings of Callum’s little library. So a pile of books.

He’d just contributed to half of the cost when she’d asked him if he wanted to go in on it with her. He didn’t know it was an entire library’s worth of books.

Sansa got settled in the front seat and got out a few makeup products to put on while they drove to Gendry and Arya’s place out in Flea Bottom.

Contrary to his teasing, he actually took it very carefully, so she wouldn’t smear anything that wasn’t supposed to smear.

He simply honked the horn outside their building, much to Arya’s annoyance, when she came out slowly, glaring at the two of them. He popped the boot and Gendry loaded their bags in and then climbed into the backseat of the car.

“Oh, Sansa’s painting her face on? Make sure you watch, fellas. This is a rare treat for us simpletons… a live show. Usually, this is heavily edited and airbrushed more than those t-shirts on the beach…”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Arya… I don’t airbrush. I show off my blotches and zits for the entire world.”

“On behalf of the world, you really needn’t bother, dear.” Arya draped her arm around Sansa’s seat and poked her head into the front seat. “So… got any news for us?”

Theon’s face was hot, so he was pretty sure he was blushing bright red, but Arya wasn’t looking at him.

Yet.

She was looking at Sansa, who was pointedly not saying anything.

Only after she was satisfied that Sansa wasn’t going to answer her did she look at Theon. And he saw her eyes in the rearview mirror. How they lit up when they settled on his neck.

“Oh my gods…” Arya leaned up between the seats and yanked the collar of his shirt down. “Is that a hickey I spy? Sansa, you animal…”

“Stop it,” Theon said, jerking away from her.

Arya was grinning when she sat back. Theon could hear her grinning as she looked between them. “So… I’m going to ask again. Any announcements?”

Sansa caught his eye and smiled. He grinned as well, looking back at the road. “Think you already know, don’t you, Arya?” he asked.

“I do, but I want to hear it from you guys.”

“Fine. We’re… together,” Sansa said, grinning as she brushed something over her cheeks. “Officially.”

“ _Carnally_?” Arya said, her voice all low.

“Don’t push it,” Sansa deadpanned.

Arya propped her legs on the centre console.

“Congrats, you guys,” Gendry said, eyes still on his phone. “Shoulda put ice on that hickey when you got it. Keeps it from getting that dark. Is it alright if I play music, Theon?”

Sighing, Theon nodded.“Go for it.” He turned onto the bypass that would take them out of King’s Landing and onto the King’s Road, bound for the north.

* * *

They arrived at Winterfell only the smallest amount late, but no one seemed to think anything of it.

In fact, Catelyn blamed it on Arya the second they arrived, wrapping her arms around Sansa to kiss her forehead and to look at her. “You look so happy, darling. Did you sleep well last night?”

“I’ll say,” Arya muttered.

Theon’s face reddened immediately, but he was able to hide that fact by lugging Callum’s gift past Catelyn to deposit it on the table.

“How’s the website coming?” Cat asked, ignoring Arya, or likely not hearing her.

“Pretty well,” Sansa said. “I’ve got all the photos from Theon and--“

“That’s lovely, dear.” She kissed her again and turned to where Theon was standing. He hoped like the seven hells that he wasn’t blushing anymore. “Hello, Theon.” Her smile was a thin line, but it was a smile. And a nod. More than he usually got.

And then Sansa yanked him away from her, leading him out to the living room to see everyone else.

“I don’t think she picked up on it,” Sansa muttered.

“I don’t either… are you still wanting to tell her?” he asked. It was still slightly unbelievable to him that this was happening. Well, it was and it wasn’t. It took them forever to get here, and the speed of things wasn’t bothering him one bit. It was just… mad that Sansa wanted to tell anyone, he guessed.

She gave him a look of barely concealed mirth. “I was planning on it, yeah…”

“You sure? She seems in a good mood. Maybe it’d be better to wait until next time—“

“No, I want to tell her,” Sansa said with a grin. “I’m happy and I want everyone to know why.”

He couldn’t really help it, he grabbed her hand and pulled her close, one arm around her waist while the other cupped her jaw and tilted it up so he could kiss her.

“Theon,” she whispered, fisting a handful of his shirt.

“Oops,” someone said from the door.

Sansa turned and saw Robb and Marg standing there with baby Callum. “Sorry…” she said, releasing Theon’s shirt and turning towards them. “Right well… I suppose you know now…”

Marg was grinning, Callum was cooing, even though Theon couldn’t imagine a six-week-old knew what was happening beyond that there was someone holding him. Robb was eying the both of them incredulously, almost as if he didn’t believe it, and then his eyes centred on Theon’s neck.

_Oh right. The hickey. Shit._

“Oh today just got interesting…” Robb said, grinning in the same way Sansa did, but Robb’s had a mad glint to it that Sansa’s didn’t.

Marg swatted him. “Behave. And it’s your son’s brunch. It didn’t need to get any more interesting.”

“Oh come off it, Marg. It’s Mum’s Grandmother brunch and everyone knows it. We might as well have gotten her gifts instead of Cal. To him, it’s just another day where everyone’s enamored with him.”

“His name’s Callum. Idiot.” Marg said, poking Robb in the arm. “We had so many late-night discussions—“

“Arguments,” Robb corrected.

“—About it, and this was the only name we both liked. I’m not about to let you start nicknaming him when he’s only six weeks old!” Marg said, patting Callum’s back as Robb snorted.

“He’s six-weeks-old,” he countered. “He’s a wee little shite and he’s too small for a big name like Callum… Aren’t you, Cal?” he grinned and leaned over to kiss Callum’s hand, which only caused the baby to burst into a toothless grin. “See?” Robb said, pointing to the baby. “He likes it.”

“He’s mistaken,” Marg said shortly. “Takes after his father.” She took Callum off her shoulder, offering the baby to Theon and returning the burp cloth on her shoulder to the diaper bag she had resting on the buffet table.

Surprised, Theon took him, and with Sansa’s help, he put him upright, leaning against his shoulder. He patted Callum’s back slightly. It was only as a comforting measure, because he’d started making a sad little whimpering sound the second Marg had passed him off.

Of course, once Theon did that, the baby belched loudly so loudly that everyone froze in place. The belch was followed by a wet sound as he spit up at least a gallon of breast milk onto Theon’s shirt and the floor behind him. It landed on the floor behind him with a splat and Theon grimaced, not wanting to look.

Margaery gasped. “Gods, I’m sorry! You okay, Cal?”

“Rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it?” Robb grinned.

“Shut up,” she hissed. “Oh gods, Callum, that was everything you ate, wasn’t it?”

The baby made a cooing sound in Theon’s ear and he smiled, allowing Sansa to take him while Margaery attempted to clean the spit-up off his shirt. “You might have to go at this with a wet cloth, it’s not coming off…”

“I’ve got it, no worries,” he said, accepting the burp cloth to wipe it off his shoulder and neck, apparently.

“He’s colicky and he gets indigestion and—“

“He wouldn’t if you lay off the spicy foods, Margaery,” Cat said from the door.

Marg pressed her lips together for a long moment. “I don’t eat spicy things, Cat. Haven’t in nearly a year now.”

“Well, even what’s not spicy to you, is to him. Look at what’s in baby food, that’s all you should be eating…” Cat took the baby from Sansa, and she pulled Theon from the room, tugging him down the hallway to the washroom.

She wet a cloth under the water and sighed. “Mum’s on thin ice.”

Theon laughed. “Robb looked like he had it under control.”

“Did he?”

“Looked that way to me… here don’t forget the back.”

“What, did he get you there too— oh my gods…”

“What?”

“Might just want to get another shirt…” He turned and craned his neck to see it in the mirror.

“Oh gods… how did he even have that much inside him?” Theon took a deep breath. “I have another shirt in the car…”

“I’ll go get it and put this one in the wash.” She put the cloth down and reached for the hem of his shirt when the door opened behind them. She hadn’t locked it, they were just wiping off his shirt, after all. But the two of them froze anyway.

Cat stood there, blinking at the two of them. Theon could only see partially because he was half out of his shirt. But she looked a bit surprised. “Sansa?” she said softly. _Pointedly_. “What’s going on in here?”

“Oh, I thought Theon and I would shag on the countertop before you served the frittata,” Sansa said bluntly.

“Don’t speak that way to me,” Cat said, her voice low. “I asked you an honest question. You’re undressing your roommate in the guest bathroom.”

“Okay, Callum spit-up on him and it’s all over his shirt, you can see it there. I’m taking it to put it in the wash and going out to get another shirt out of the car for him. Also? Not my roommate. Boyfriend. Theon’s my boyfriend.”

Cat took a deep breath and Theon flapped his hand a bit. “Think I could move? Either put the shirt back on or take it all the way off? One or the other so I can be an active part of this conversation?”

Cat sniffed. “There’s no conversation. Not until after your nephew’s brunch, Sansa.” Theon slid out of the shirt, but Sansa was still holding it.

“Oh, come off it, Mum. It’s _your_ brunch. Celebrating you becoming a grandmother.”

“That’s worth celebrating as well!” Cat argued.

“Too right it is, but let’s call a spade a spade, Mother.”

Cat groaned. “Oh, don’t call me Mother. It makes me think I’ve done something wrong, and all I did was open the door and… see your _boyfriend’s_ bare chest.” She gestured to Theon, and he grabbed the hem of the t-shirt and automatically held it up over himself. A fat lot of good it did, but he still did it.

“My apologies, Mrs Stark, I just needed a clean shirt, and I promise there was nothing untoward going on in your guest bathroom.”

Cat finally looked at him, her eyes lingering on his neck and he wanted the floor to swallow him up.

She wrinkled her nose and reached out to turn his chin to the side. “Sansa, really… how old are you?” Cat reached out and took the shirt from Theon. “I’m doing a load of Bran’s, I’ll toss this in. Sansa, run out and get Theon another shirt. And you’re the makeup artist, cover that thing up.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “We tried, I’m paler than he is, nothing matched.”

“Ask Margaery, she’s a bit more… golden than the rest of you,” Cat replied, still talking about the hickey as if it were more present in the room than Theon was. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Go on, now,” Cat said, nodding to Sansa, who looked torn because there was no clear exit for him.

“Yeah, another shirt would be great, Sansa,” he said smiling in a way he hoped would alleviate her nerves, but she just hurried out of the room. Around her mother.

Cat was still standing there, looking at him, waiting for Sansa to scurry down the hallway.

He knew the beginnings of a pound of flesh talk when he saw one. And that’s what this was.

“You. You’re still rehabilitated, aren’t you?” Cat asked, her questions hitting directly on the point.

“Yes, it’s an ongoing process, but I don’t use anymore, no.” He answered. “I’m in therapy.” He wasn’t sure why he said that.

“Isn’t everyone?” Cat asked. “Good on you, though. What are you doing with yourself?”

He swallowed. “I’ve started up my photography again, Sansa’s set me up on Instagram. Got a few followers. Got a job lined up as well. A paying one. For one of Sansa’s friends… I um…” None of this sounded impressive. “I love her.”

“Sansa’s friend?” Cat countered, smirking.

“What? No! No, Sansa. Sansa. I love Sansa.” Gods, he was a mess. Blurting that out to every woman with red hair in his immediate vicinity.

Cat sighed heavily and reached out to turn his chin to the side again. “Try to discourage her from doing _that_ again.” She dropped his chin and draped the shirt over her arm again.

“I will, I mean, I won’t? It won’t happen again, ma’am… I—“

She waved him off. “Just… make sure she’s happy… I… I don’t think she has been in a long while and… if you are the one who helps her along towards that happiness… I suppose there isn’t much left for me to say, is there?”

“Wait… what?” Theon blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“I’m the first to admit, I don’t understand Sansa at all,” she said sadly. “I try to encourage her, and it comes out wrong. As if I’m disappointed when all I want is for her to flourish…” She looked sadly at him for a moment. “Never thought she’d go for you in a million years. Not after all that nonsense with the drugs and the way you were always at each other when you were teenagers. But then again, this might have been bound to happen, what do I know?”

He swallowed. “Thank… you? I will… um… make sure she’s happy. It’s what I want as well.”

Cat smiled, if you could call it that. It was tight, looked like maybe she hadn’t used those muscles in a while. At least, not around him. She gave a subtle nod and then left him alone in the bathroom.

He almost followed her out himself, except he remembered he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Sansa came back presently with a clean shirt and Margaery in tow, and the two of them attempted to cover the hickey with some of Marg’s makeup, but it didn’t really work.

“You don’t have any redness corrector, Marg? What are you? Some kind of animal?” Sansa asked, exasperatedly looking through her bag. “It’s usually on any corrector palette. Where’s that?”

“I just use this for correction… I don’t get red splotches.” Marg said with a shrug, handing Sansa a tube of what looked like the same stuff Sansa had been applying to his neck for the past ten minutes.

“Gods, I hate you,” Sansa sighed. “That’s not even concealer, that.”

Marg shrugged. “Any more than this, you don’t see my freckles, and I think they’re my loveliest attribute.”

Sansa sighed. “Well, that’s the best we can do then…”

“Don’t _you_ have colour correctors?” Marg asked.

Sansa’s eyebrow raised slightly as she glared at Marg. “Not with me. I don’t do full makeup around family,” Sansa said with a sigh. “I don’t care if you all see my blotches.”

“What about Theon?” Margaery asked, smirking.

“Theon’s seen my blotches and he doesn’t care.”

“I love your blotches,” he said softly.

Sansa leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose. “And I love yours. Which is good because your neck looks bloody horrendous.”

“That’s your blotch too,” he grumbled as she moved out of the way and he caught a look at his neck.

He sucked air through his teeth as he inspected it. “I think the hickey was better, to be honest.”

Margaery smirked and turned around, leaning against the countertop. “How’d you get that old thing, anyway?”

“Same way everyone gets them,” Sansa replied for him.

“I got in a fight with the vacuum and lost,” he quipped.

Marg snorted and gathered up her makeup, sweeping it into the bag and zipping the top. “Well. I’m happy. For you and the vacuum, Theon.”

Sansa sighed. “I am not a vacuum. I don’t clean nearly enough to be called a vacuum.”

“Yeah, well, you do suck, though...” Marg said with a wink before ducking out of the bathroom.

Sansa ran the water to wipe down the countertop, sighing and shaking her head.

Theon chuckled. “She’s right. I mean… she couldn’t possibly know that, but…” He felt his face grow hot when Sansa cranked up the water to drown out their conversation.

She smiled, wetting the cloth in the sink. “True, but I suppose you couldn’t possibly know that either. At least… you don’t have _full_ knowledge…” Her eyes cut to the door and Theon blanched.

“Sans… we can’t do that here… what if—“

“Gods, your mind is in the gutter,” she sniffed and rang out the cloth to wipe down the counter. “I wouldn’t do that here. In the car on the way to the hotel, though…”

Theon had never wished harder in his life for a reputable lock on the door.

“You’re… um… certain we can’t go check in now? Just to… you know… not have to wait to do it later. After the brunch…”

Sansa grinned and went to hang the damp rag in the shower. “I’m fairly certain one would get arrested for doing that in broad daylight up here…”

“You could just say you were keeping it warm…” he offered.

“Sorry, Theon. You’ll have to brave the chill for a while longer.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and he leaned down to kiss her promptly.

“It’s not nearly as cold anymore,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Dammit, you,” she laughed. “You have to go and turn our naughty conversation into something sweet. You cheeseball.”

He laughed and nuzzled her nose. “You love it.”

“I do love cheese,” she replied. “And you. I love you.”

“There we are,” he said, kissing her again. “Come now. I’m sure everyone wants to see us out of the bathroom.”

“What did my mum say to you?” she asked softly, hanging back and slipping her hand into his.

He smiled and looked down at their hands. “Not much. Told me to make you happy.”

“No, really,” she grinned.

“Really. Looks like she approves of me,” he said. “Still want me after that?”

“I want you anyway because I just do. My mum has no bearing on how much I want you. But… that makes things… at least seven hells worth of easier.”

“Well, we could do with more easy,” he said.

“We could,” she agreed, following him back to where everyone else was.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
